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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495399">The Last Temptation of Sidney Chambers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_Magdalena/pseuds/Maria_Magdalena'>Maria_Magdalena</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Grantchester (TV), Inspector Morse &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, F/M, Forced Cohabitation, Gen, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Murder Mystery, Original Character Death(s), Slow Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:14:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>70,923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495399</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_Magdalena/pseuds/Maria_Magdalena</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whisky-drinking, cigarette-smoking, and jazz-loving Anglican priest Sidney Chambers is a self-admitted sinner and knows he has a lot to atone for. Currently recovering from a heartbreak, he has placed himself under strict social moratorium and sees no one but his housemate and curate Leonard Finch and housekeeper Mrs. Chapman. Much to the frustration of his best friend, Detective Inspector Geordie Keating of the Cambridge CID, he no longer involves himself with the police investigations and instead "gets his jollies" reading hackneyed whodunit novels. Geordie believes Sidney no longer wants to get his hands dirty, but Sidney tells him he only needs a mental break. </p><p>When a woman in Sidney's parish gets murdered and the scene resembles a storyline from a book written by an author he currently admires, Sidney reluctantly agrees to help Geordie, especially after he discovers that one of his new parishioners, a lovely young American, is herself a mystery writer. As the body count rises in Grantchester, each one resembling scenes from the books Sidney has been reading, Sidney and Geordie must once again work together to uncover the identity of the killer, even if the one person Sidney could no longer trust... is himself.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leonard Finch/Daniel Marlowe, Sidney Chambers &amp; Geordie Keating, Sidney Chambers &amp; Leonard Finch, Sidney Chambers/Amanda Kendall, Sidney Chambers/Original Female Character(s), Sidney Chambers/Other(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Leave Sidney Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is set in Series 4. Sidney fell in love with Violet, but stayed in Grantchester.</p><p>The Grantchester and Morse characters are not mine.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Grantchester, England </em>
</p><p>
  <em>1956</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sidney raised his long legs as Mrs. Chapman née Maguire came at him threateningly with the hoover. On the carpet next to the sofa where he sat, his black Labrador puppy Dickens whined worriedly, so Sidney gave him a pat of comfort on the head and glared at his housekeeper who turned her nose up and continued to ignore master and dog. Sidney sighed and tipped his head back, resting briefly on the cushion with his eyes closed as he counted backwards from thirty. He wouldn't be able to get back to his book until Mrs. C moved to the next room with the hoover and knowing how irritated she was with him, it'd be another two minutes. Couldn't a man get any peace at all to read in his own house? </p><p>Granted, the vicarage didn't belong to him, exactly, but it was his home for the foreseeable future--possibly till his dying day--so for all intents and purposes, he did belong here. Surely that must afford him some measure of peace? He was the bloody vicar, after all. To his surprise and relief, the infernal racket of the hoovering suddenly ceased. </p><p>"I can practically hear you cursing me in that head of yours, Mr. Chambers," grumbled his housekeeper, yanking the cord of the hoover from the plug on the wall and wrapping it around the body. "I'll thank you not to do it any longer. One would think a hard working body deserves a thimble of respect around here." She sniffed delicately. "Will ye be wanting your tea now, my liege?"</p><p>Where the hell was Leonard, anyway, Sidney wanted to know. For his first three years as Grantchester's vicar, he had dealt with Mrs. Chapman née Maguire on his own, but for the last two, he'd also had Leonard, as a buffer. Ever since he moved in, the three of them had been more like a family. Sidney knew that it was because Mrs. C never had children of her own that she focused all of her attention and solicitousness on him, but now that there was also Leonard, Mrs. C had eased up on him a little bit. </p><p>Dickens once again whined piteously and Sidney reluctantly cracked one eye open. "I would like tea, my good woman, and some of your warmed up buttery scones, if you'd be so kind." He forced himself to smile at his housekeeper, who rolled her eyes.</p><p>"Oh, bother. You're starting to sound like Old Ronnie, burning in perdition as he is. I should be glad you're finally wanting something in your stomach other than that rotgut whisky. I can whip you a couple of eggs too, if you like." Mrs. Chapman scowled at him and wiped her hands on white, starched apron. "Once you get some food in you, you ought to take that devil dog of yours outside for a long walk along the Cam. You could use the sun yourself, vicar." </p><p>Sidney groaned inwardly and glanced at the book he had placed momentarily face-down on the armrest next to him. He had foolishly believed he'd be picking it up again within minutes of dispatching his ubiquitous housekeeper. He'd been about to discover if the bloody playing card that the scullery maid had found in the butler's pantry had been dropped there by accident during the weekend party's parlor game or if it had been planted there by the killer as Sidney himself suspected to draw attention to the old butler. That was, until Mrs. C decided to invade his study with her trusty hoover. And guilted him into taking Dickens out for a walk. He had to admit that for the last six months, he had left all the dog-walking responsibilities to Leonard, and that couldn't possibly be fair because after all, he--Sidney, not Leonard--was the master of Dickens. He was given to him as a present by Amanda Kendall who became Mrs. Amanda Hopkins and was now Miss Amanda Kendall again. </p><p><em>Amanda...</em> no, he was not going to think about her now.</p><p>"Sidney," Mrs. C prodded. "You will be taking Dickens out for a walk?"</p><p>"Yes, ma'am, I will," he answered promptly, propping his head back against the cushion and closing his eyes again. He sighed gratefully as he heard the housekeeper make her way to the kitchen and begin preparatory noises. Alone was alone even if it were just for a few moments.</p><p>Leonard wasn't the only one who took Dickens out for a walk, Sidney thought sullenly even as his dog pushed his snout into his open palm and licked it. He scratched the growing pup's ear in affection. Daniel Marlowe accompanied Leonard sometimes, so it's not like Leonard was alone in the chore. And Leonard's friend Will Davenport, who was a chaplain in Cambridge, came along for a visit on his motorbike sometimes and shared in Leonard's dog-walking duties, so really, lots of people walked Dickens. Mrs. C's husband, Jack, was fond of the pup, too. Dickens never lacked company, far from it. Sure, Geordie, Cathy, and the kids hadn't come around in a while and Dickens probably missed them, but he was a dog, for Pete's sake. It wasn't like Dickens even knew the name of Geordie's four kids. Of course, he himself hadn't seen the Keatings in so long that he was starting to forget their names. There was Esme and the boy, the two other girls...</p><p>Oh, Christ, was it really down to this? Torturing himself because he momentarily couldn't remember the name of his best friend's kids? One guilt trip at a time, Chambers. He pushed himself up from the sofa and made his way to the drinks cabinet to pour himself a finger of Johnnie Walker into a snifter. Looking over his shoulder, he made sure that his housekeeper wasn't about to sneak up on him before tossing back the drink and enjoying the deep swallow of the silken burn as he surveyed the vegetable garden that Leonard had grown and tended over the past several months with Daniel Marlowe. Leonard was awfully good with growing things. Leonard was good with people, animals, and plants, period. </p><p>He glanced down as he felt the slight weight of Dickens dropping his muzzle on top of his shoe. Sidney smiled down at his dog. The little guy asked for almost nothing of him and yet he could begrudge him of it. What the hell kind of man was he these days? It was almost as if he were afraid to step outside of the vicarage in fear that a meteor would hit him right on the head the moment he did. He hadn't even been on his bicycle in almost a month. A vicar was supposed to go out and visit his parishioners. Save for a few that he could get to within walking distance, he hadn't seen any of his regulars outside of service. As Mrs. C had told him, he was turning into a veritable hermit, he was. </p><p>He finished his drink with another long pull, then took out his handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers and wiped the snifter dry and clean of liquid and his prints before returning it to its proper place and his damp handkerchief in his pocket. He was back in his spot on the sofa and had his book in hand by the time Mrs. C had returned to the study with the tea service and a small plate of her buttery scones, along with a side of scrambled eggs. She made a clucking sound at the sight of him with his book, but said nothing else, only placed the tray on the coffee table in front of him. </p><p>Sidney peeked at her from the top of the book in time to catch her throw a piece of cold chicken to Dickens. He raised an eyebrow. "What have you got against my reading material these days, Mrs. C? I haven't seen you this upset since you came across a copy of the Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx on my dresser."</p><p>"For my sins, I will never understand your taste in women, music, cinema, or literature. You are a right heathen, you are, Sidney Chambers, and I don't mind telling you," she said with an offended sniff. "Not only are you obsessed with the devil's music, now you've got it in your head that the devil's rubbish is quality reading, too. How do you get yourself to sleep at night when you read about nothing but murder and the evil of men, night and day, every day the Good Lord has created these past several months?"</p><p>"I'll have you know that Ngaio Marsh is considered to be the preeminent authoress of literary crime fiction, second only to Agatha Christie," Sidney retorted in a lofty tone, stirring a hint of cream into his tea. "Her detective protagonist, Mr. Roderick Alleyn, is nobility, you know." </p><p>The housekeeper snatched the book out of his hands and scowled at its cover, which she had already told Sidney she thought was obscene. "But this isn't one by Mrs. Marsh, is it? I've never even heard of this person. Who is this S.L. Cooper?"</p><p>"An American, Mrs. Chapman," Sidney said with mock disapproval, shaking his head. "Who dares to write these cozy, little mysteries based in our tiny English villages as though he were born and raised in one. The cheek!" He lifted his cup to his mouth and sipped his tea, so he could hide his smile. It wouldn't do for his housekeeper to figure out he was teasing her. The woman made his food, after all. He joined his teacup with its saucer and set it back down on the table. "The prose could be cleaner and smoother, I suppose, but the storylines are riveting and the pacing is always tight. Just when I think I've got the killer figured out, the author bowls me a right googly and I'm left with my mouth hanging open at the end of the book like a proper civvie."</p><p>Mrs. C snorted indelicately. "You <em>are</em> a proper civvie. You were never a true sleuth, no matter how long you played cops and robbers with Geordie Keating."</p><p>Sidney grabbed a scone from the table, broke it apart with his hands, and shoved half into his mouth to avoid having to answer. Immediately seeing through his ruse, the older woman scoffed in disgust, rolled her eyes, and stalked off toward the kitchen. Sidney chuckled quietly and chewed his food, washing it down with tea. He was in no mood to discuss his amateur sleuthing days, either. He ate the other half of the scone, put away another, and polished off the scrambled eggs, along with a second cup of tea. By the time he was wiping his mouth with his whisky-stained handkerchief, he felt like a whole new man. </p><p>Maybe it was a good idea to go outside, stretch his legs out, and get some sun. Even Leonard sported a tan these days, but that came courtesy of the few days he spent in Corfu with Daniel Marlowe and some friends last month. Imagine Leonard, the once awkward curate who was afraid of his own shadow, having a better social life than Sidney these days. It really beggared belief. </p><p>He whistled for Dickens and patted the side of his leg to summon the dog to him. At the door, he put on his anorak and a red scarf that Cathy Keating had knitted for him and given him last Christmas. It had been an unusually cold winter and he was gifted more homemade scarves and hats than usual. He grabbed the dog's lead from the closet and attached it to his collar before opening the front door.</p><p>"Mrs. C, Dickens and I are heading out!"</p><p>His housekeeper grunted something in response.</p><p>The first person he encountered right out of the gate was old Mr. Brant, the village crank who always had a bone or two to pick with Sidney, looking about as displeased at the world as though the Good Lord Himself saw fit to make everything in the man's life terrible. Sidney nodded at him in acknowledgement as he silently wished for Dickens to drag him away, but alas, the infernal dog only parked his rear end on the snowy ground and chose to scratch his own ear with his hind leg. </p><p>"Good afternoon, Canon Chambers," said the old man, casting a suspicious glance at Dickens before returning his rheumy stare to Sidney. "Are you feeling better, then? Mrs. Chapman told me you haven't been yourself these last few days."</p><p>Sidney flashed him his teeth in a mockery of a smile. "It was just a bit of a cold, Mr. Brant, nothing more," he prevaricated, taking advantage of the man's tendency toward hypochondria. "Dr. Farber says I shouldn't be contagious anymore."</p><p>Mr. Brant walked a few steps back away from him. "Right, then. Have you met our new neighbors? Foreigners have gone and moved into Ravenwood Manor three weeks ago. Can you imagine?"</p><p>Neighbors. Sidney scoffed silently. Ravenwood Manor was ten miles outside of town. He was not going to be on the welcoming bandwagon for that one, no matter how expectantly Mr. Brant was looking at him. "I thought that property was shut down and condemned. No one has lived there since the old marquess died seven years ago, right?"</p><p>Mr. Brant shook his head. "The old sister of the marquess lived there with a skeleton staff until she died early last year. The niece and nephew visited once or twice, but Lady Beatrice was alone at her deathbed."</p><p>"Ah, yes. I wasn't able to minister to her, I'm afraid. I was in a conference in Germany for a month." Sidney stuck his hands in the pockets of his anorak and rocked back on his heels. "My younger sister Jennifer attended Girton with the niece, Lady Zöe." </p><p>"Did she?" Mr. Brant murmured with interest. "I believe the brother went to Oxford, but was sent down. Never finished his schooling."</p><p>Sidney meant to make his excuses and go on his way, but his own curiosity stayed his feet. "Is he the current marquess?"</p><p>The old man appeared scandalized by this suggestion. "Heavens, no. A college drop-out? No, that one is a second son. And to a second wife, no less. The new marquess was a graduate of Corpus Christi, which is your own alma mater, isn't it?"</p><p>Sidney nodded. "Yes. And he has allowed strangers to move into the Ravenwood estate, you say?"</p><p>"Foreigners, worse yet," Mr. Brant replied with disgust. "Orientals, the lot of them. What would Orientals be wanting to do here in Grantchester, I ask you? Probably here to spy for China."</p><p>Sidney rapidly remembered why he didn't like the crotchety old man so much: he was small-minded and mean. "The Ravenwood Manor is actually situated in Cambridgeshire and quite outside my purview. I'm sure the new tenants aren't spies for China, Mr. Brant." He tried to keep his tone light, though he was starting to lose his patience. </p><p>Mr. Brant frowned. "No, I don't suppose the new marquess would allow that to happen. He's a copper, you know, a Detective Inspector for the New Scotland Yard. Didn't take up his seat at the HoL."</p><p>Sidney chuckled. "The Marquess of Ravenwood works as a detective for the New Scotland Yard?" Why, that was practically straight out of one of his novels. "By Jove, what a character he must be."</p><p>In the end, it was Mr. Brant who made his excuses and ended their conversation, much to Sidney's dismay, which had to be a first, since he was always the one eager to escape the old goat at first opportunity. However, he found himself curious about his new neighbors and wanted to find more about them. Goodness knew that it had been a while since anything remotely interesting happened in his corner of Grantchester and he was willing to concede his own fault in that. Perhaps he ought to pop in at the Eagle and have a pint or two to see if anyone knew about the new residents of Ravenwood Manor. </p><p>If they were indeed spies and he inadvertently did his part in uncovering them, he would only be doing his due diligence as the unofficial guardian of Grantchester. He laughed to himself. <em>Sidney Chambers, you've a nose for trouble indeed, and I don't mind telling you.</em> When exactly did his common sense begin to take on the voice of his redoubtable housekeeper? </p><p>He tugged on the lead attached to Dickens to remind him who was master and get the lazy animal going. The dog whimpered in protest as though he were determined to freeze his rear end in the snow, but got up when Sidney gently prodded him with his boot. </p><p>"Come on, boy. I thought you wanted to go for a walk. Were you just trying to get away from the hoover like I was?"</p><p>Dickens barked as though in agreement and pulled on the lead as he began to get going. For several minutes, dog and man walked along the white, quiet landscape of Grantchester fields side by side. There was no one else about right now. It was simply too cold, even though the sun was out, and Sidney was all right with that. Dickens stopped occasionally to sniff at the base of tree and water it or investigate a fallen acorn, but for the most part, he walked companionably with Sidney and didn't dawdle too much. </p><p>For his sins, Sidney wanted to reach his favorite bench, which he dearly hoped wasn't buried in snow. It sat along the bank of the river Cam and had been there for as long as anyone could remember. He had many fond memories of that bench. It would take him and Dickens about fifteen minutes to get there as it was about a mile away from the doorstep of the vicarage. He patted the book he had tucked into the pocket of his anorak to ensure that it was there as the snow crunched under his boots and he walked on. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sidney Takes the Bait</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney comes across Inspector Geordie Keating, who invites him to the pub. Geordie tells Sidney about the case he's working on and relays that the victim was the lady's maid of a noblewoman who has just moved into town.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is set in Series 4. Sdney met and fell in love with Violet, but chose to stay in Grantchester</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney never made it to the Cam because he bumped into Detective Inspector Geordie Keating on his way there. He hadn't seen his old friend in a few months and his heart gave a start at the sight of him. The older man looked as though he'd lost half a stone since their last meeting and dark bags underscored his deep-seated green eyes.</p>
<p>"Mrs. Chapman said I'd find you out here," Geordie greeted him, holding out the sterling silver cigarette case that Cathy gifted him one wedding anniversary. "It's good to see you out and about, Sidney. Leonard told me you've been pickling yourself in your study for the last month."</p>
<p>Sidney cursed inwardly, but took a cigarette and leaned toward his friend as Geordie touched his lighter to the tip. He drew the smoke deep into his lungs, held it for a few moments, and blew it out through his nostrils. His first cigarette in a week tasted like heaven. He couldn't believe he thought he could kick the filthy habit. "What do you want, Geordie? I told you I need some time alone."</p>
<p>"Doing nothing but reading your pulp novels, eh?" Geordie mused, drawing on his own cigarette. "Leonard thinks you might start writing your own. Is that true? God knows you have enough material. Just keep me out of them, will you?"</p>
<p>Though he was annoyed at his friend for seeking him out, Sidney couldn't help but laugh. He wouldn't deny that he'd thought about penning his own novel. He studied literature and classics during his time at Cambridge and had always been a voracious reader. Amanda shared his love of reading. Before their relationship deteriorated, she gave him all of the novels written by S.L. Cooper, nine of them so far, as well as a collection of short stories. She figured he would like them since Sidney adored Agatha Christie and Ngaio Marsh. He had read all but two of them and couldn't wait for the tenth, which was supposed to be released at the end of the summer. </p>
<p>But he figured if he wrote something, it'd be along the lines of Graham Greene's "The End of the Affair." These days, he believed he shared the bored cynicism about romantic love that the main character Maurice Bendrix had. Archdeacon Atubo would be tickled to hear that. He had been pressuring Sidney for several months to find himself a wife, especially after what he considered to be the "Kendall Woman debacle." But Sidney had neither the time nor the inclination for romance these days. After Hildegarde, Margaret, Amanda, and his brief stint of true happiness with Violet, he was just burned out on women. He was bad at relationships. There was just something profoundly lacking in him and until he figured out what that was, he had no business offering himself up as a husband to a good, decent woman. </p>
<p>"You haven't been the same since Violet left." Geordie was leaning against the gatepost in front of Roseville Cottage where Isabel Livingston lived with her young daughter, a housekeeper, and a maid-of-all-chores. He removed his chapeau, mussed his brown hair, now more liberally streaked with gray, and replaced it on his head. "Admit it, Sidney, you're more broken up about her leaving than you've ever been about Amanda."</p>
<p>Sidney stared at his best friend in disbelief, shook his head, and drew hard on his cigarette to give himself a moment to think up of a response that didn't sound like outraged sputtering. He had loved Violet. He loved her still. He understood now that what he felt for her was what a man should feel for a woman. What he had for Amanda was an eighteen year old boy's crush that developed into an obsession for a girl he could never have. He never truly loved Amanda; he loved the idea of her. His realization of that had brought him more shame than any of his other boyhood foibles ever had. </p>
<p>He sighed and reached down to scratch his dog's head. Dickens looked up at him and gave him a big doggy grin, his tongue lolling out. "Did you really seek me out to bug me about my love life, Inspector Keating?" He slid the man a sideway glance. "Surely you have more important things to do with your time."</p>
<p>Geordie cleared his throat. "No, Sidney. As dramatic and varied your romantic exploits have been, I'm not here for that. I need your help, vicar."</p>
<p>Sidney straightened up and stuck his hands in his pockets, stomping his boots on the ground in an effort to keep the cold from seeping up his limbs. It was getting bloody freezing, but he wasn't about to admit that to his friend. "Spiritual guidance is all I can offer these days, Inspector." </p>
<p>"Don't give me that, Chambers. You've got the brains in this partnership and I'm in sore need of it," Geordie said irritably. "Come with me to the Eagle, will you, and I'll buy us a few pints."</p>
<p>Sidney hesitated briefly, but acquiesced after a moment. It had been a while since he actively sought companionship outside of his own. He'd become so maudlin and his temperament mercurial that he could barely stand himself at times. He was sure no one else would be able to, either. Even Mrs. Chapman and Leonard had begun to lose patience with him. Just last week, Leonard had called him a "proper bastard" and the man rarely ever cursed.</p>
<p>"I could go for a couple of rounds, I suppose," he said lightly, determined not to let Geordie know how much the effort cost him. </p>
<p>"Backgammon, too?" prompted the inspector. </p>
<p>Sidney couldn't help the smile that touched his lips. "You're pushing it."</p>
<p>"Oh, come on, Chambers. It's the game!"</p>
<p>The Eagle was a medium-sized establishment built in the early seventeen hundreds, but was now the unofficial headquarters of the RAF. A handful uniformed officers milling around by the bar looked up as Sidney walked in and he nodded at them in greeting. The pub had gone through several changes in management over the years, but it was the same brick and oak structure it had been almost two hundred and fifty years ago and a beloved Grantchester tradition. </p>
<p>Elvis Presley's "Hound Dog" was playing through the loud speakers when he and Geordie entered. Sidney shook his head. It wasn't long ago that he sat at one of the tables with Violet by the window and enjoyed a few drinks, listening to the French songbird, Edith Piaf. He closed his eyes and breathed through the stab of pain in his heart. One day, he would be able to think about her without feeling like his ribcage was collapsing. </p>
<p>He headed for the usual table he shared with Geordie while his friend went up to the bar to fetch them their first round of bitters. Sidney took off his anorak and scarf and hung them on a coat rack by the window closest to their table. Underneath his outerwear, he wore a white neckband under a black rabat, as well as black worsted wool trousers and sports coat. It was the same outfit he put on every morning as soon he woke up, showered, and shaved, unless there was a special occasion, in which case there were specific vestments.</p>
<p>His sister Jen loved to tell him that he looked like a mortician. </p>
<p>He took the seat facing the window as he always did because Geordie preferred the one with his back to the wall, so he could see the comings and goings of the pub. Additionally, he hated having his back to anyone in fear that someone could sneak up on him. Sidney used to share the same anxiety, a phobia he developed during the war, but he had forced himself to learn since then not to expect an enemy to jump out at him at any moment. That was no way to live. </p>
<p>He had just finished setting up backgammon for their game when Geordie came up with their drinks. "Took you long enough," Sidney remarked amicably. </p>
<p>Geordie tossed him his chapeau. "Prepare to lose, Chambers. I've been practicing, you know, and Esme's getting quite good."</p>
<p>Sidney stood to hang his friend's hat on the coat rack next to him before sitting back down. "What thirteen-year-old girl enjoys playing an old man's game when she could be listening to her records or chatting on the phone with her girlfriends?"</p>
<p>Geordie gave him a warning glare. "Quit your yapping and just play the game, Sidney." He took a healthy swig of his ale before picking up the cup to rattle the dice. </p>
<p>Sidney waited for him to release the dice but when the inspector only kept shaking the cup and staring at the board without really seeing it, he began to worry. "Geordie?"</p>
<p>A look of anguish flashed in his friend's eyes for a moment as he set the cup down and reached up to muss his hair. "It's this case I need your help with, Sidney. I can't make heads or tails of it. I know the victim, you see. She used to babysit the kids when they were younger and her mother works with Cathy at the department store."</p>
<p>Sidney nodded in understanding. He put away the backgammon, knowing his friend's heart wouldn't be in it. "What happened?"</p>
<p>Geordie drank deeply from his ale before answering. "Her name was Judith Myers and she was a gorgeous twenty-three-year-old blond who had aspirations to marry the assistant estate manager at Crevecœur in Oxfordshire. She was found drowned in a well in a dairy farm in St. Michael's Mead two days ago. She'd been missing for nearly a week."</p>
<p>Something niggled at the back of Sidney's mind, but the thought refused to come to the forefront. He reached across the table for Geordie's silver case and pulled another cigarette for himself, which he lit with matches he found in the pocket of his sports jacket. "Isn't Saint Michael's Mead about forty miles from here? What on earth was she doing there?"</p>
<p>"I haven't figured that part out yet. We don't have any leads on this case, Sidney. The coroner couldn't lift any prints from the body since it'd been in the water too long and the mother has no idea what her daughter could be doing out in that milk farm. The weather hasn't helped since the water was near frozen, so establishing a more precise time of death is nigh impossible."</p>
<p>Sidney could hear the frustration in the inspector's voice. He drew deeply from his cigarette to give himself time to think, releasing the smoke through his nostrils. "Tell me more about this girl. Did she have regular work somewhere? Was she romantically involved with that man at Crevecœur? Who were her friends?"</p>
<p>"Judith just got a job working as a lady's maid at the Ravenwood Manor for..." Geordie pulled out his notepad out his jacket. "...Lady Susan Fenwick. As for the boyfriend, he is Nicholas Peterson. They were seeing each other for eight months, but nothing too serious, much to Judith's dismay. According to Dr. Debrynne, she was four months pregnant at the time of her death, so we've got a possible motive there."</p>
<p>"You've talked to her parents?"</p>
<p>Geordie shook his head. "Widowed mother. Took us a few days to identify the body and after we brought in the mother to confirm, she just went into catatonic shock. Haven't been able to get anything out of her. The information I have, I got from the girls at the beauty salon where she worked before quitting there to work for Lady Susan."</p>
<p>"Have you interviewed Nicholas Peterson?"</p>
<p>The inspector scowled. "No joy. The bastard is in Ireland with his master on a horse buying trip and won't be back till early next week."</p>
<p>"This Lady Susan Fenwick... Mr. Brant told me that Chinese nationals have been living in Ravenwood Manor."</p>
<p>"Yes, it's true," Geordie said, giving him an odd look. "Lady Susan is half Chinese. The first wife of the late Marquess was the daughter of a Chinese ambassador to England. She bore him three children and divorced him when Lady Susan and her twin Lady Sarah were only five years old. The old marchioness caught him in bed with the governess. It caused quite a scandal at the time, an international incident that embarrassed the monarch. The marchioness took the girls back to Hong Kong with her and left the young master with his father."</p>
<p>"He would be the new marquess, right? A detective inspector with the New Scotland Yard?"</p>
<p>Geordie's green eyes glittered with amusement. "I wouldn't call him 'new,' Sidney. He's been the marquess for seven years now. I understand he graduated from your college. Did you know him? Jordan Phillip William Fenwick. That's quite a grocery list of names, innit?"</p>
<p>"I've heard of him, but he was a couple of years ahead of me. We never crossed paths." He took a couple of gulps from his pint. "What is Lady Susan doing in a mouldering pile of rocks in the middle of nowhere when I hear Hong Kong is a bustling metropolis as lively as New York these days?"</p>
<p>"Ah, that story is a tragedy in itself," said Geordie. "Her husband, an American airman, was shot down by the North Koreans while helping defend South Koreans during a communist attack in 1951. Two years later, she was in a car in Malaya with her twin sister and a new boyfriend, a British ex-patriate, who drove over some forgotten landmine in the fields..."</p>
<p>"Oh, no," Sidney breathed with some effort, uncertain if he could stand to hear anymore.</p>
<p>"Lady Sarah and the boyfriend, a Captain Lucas Fitzwilliam, died at the scene. Lady Susan was severely injured. She was thrown clear from the blast, but she is disfigured and lame in one leg. She spent several months in a hospital in France, recuperating and enduring physical therapy so she could walk again."</p>
<p>Sidney closed his eyes briefly. He didn't even know the woman and yet his heart ached desperately for her. So much pain and heartbreak for one so young. Dickens whined at him as though sensing his distress. He sucked on his cigarette like it was his source of oxygen. "I need to talk to her."</p>
<p>Geordie looked at him in surprise. "What for? She doesn't know anything, Sidney. Judith was with her for a week and a half. I don't want to bother her anymore than I have to. She's been through enough."</p>
<p>"I've never known you to take it easy on a suspect, Inspector." Sidney leaned back and placed his arm along the backrest of the empty chair next to him. </p>
<p>"Oh, for the love of Mary, Sidney, she's not a suspect. She's barely even a person of interest." Geordie studied him with exasperation. "Get that look out of your eyes, Chambers."</p>
<p>"What look?"</p>
<p>The inspector snorted. "You get this zealous look in your eyes when you've got a new bee in your bonnet."</p>
<p>Sidney ducked his head and swiped his palm over the back of his neck. Geordie knew him too well. It got deuced uncomfortable sometimes. "Geordie, you always say my gift is getting people to tell me things they wouldn't normally tell you. What's the harm in me talking to her?"</p>
<p>The inspector sighed. "Look here, Chambers, she's quite... delicate. She wears a veil over her face and is so soft-spoken you'd be hard-pressed to hear her. Hearty breeze can knock her to the ground. She's almost like... a ghost, haunting the halls of that decrepit old mansion."</p>
<p>His friend's description of the woman compelled Sidney to seek her out even more. Geordie almost sounded protective of her. Sidney rarely ever heard him speak thusly. He was one of the most impartial men Sidney had ever known. "Geordie, you asked for my help. You've said yourself that my unique insights have helped you solve many of your cases throughout the years. Let's find out what happened to Judith Myers."</p>
<p>The inspector stared at him pensively for a few minutes before nodding and crushing his cigarette into an ashtray. "All right, Sidney, but I want you to be very careful with this woman. None of your tricks."</p>
<p>"Wait a minute." Horrified, Sidney gaped at him with dawning realization. "For Pete's sake, Geordie, do you believe I would seduce her like some penny dreadful scoundrel? What kind of man do you believe I am?"</p>
<p>The inspector looked away in discomfort, picking a spot over Sidney's head to gaze at instead. "You're a good man, Chambers, but women can't seem to help themselves around you. They look at you and see the lovely sapphire eyes and the floppy, strawberry-blond hair, and believe you're bloody Prince Charming. The moment Esme starts looking at you in that goofy way, I'm sending her to a nunnery."</p>
<p>Sidney drained the rest of his pint in one long swallow before slamming the glass back down on the table. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, Geordie."</p>
<p>His friend raised an eyebrow. "You're going to deny your attractiveness to women? Do you not remember that a gorgeous world-famous jazz singer singled you out and gave you a night no sane man would ever forget for the rest of his life?"</p>
<p>Sidney groaned inwardly. His indiscretion with Gloria Dee in London had cost him his developing relationship with Hildegarde Staunton, which he had believed might eventually lead to marriage. Hildegarde had been good to him and took care of him when he was too busy taking caring of everybody else to look after himself. She would have made the perfect vicar's wife. One of his least favorite topics was Hildegarde Staunton because of the shame he felt over what he did to her. </p>
<p>He and Geordie had one more beer each before the inspector decided they should head out. It was starting to get dark and Geordie didn't want to have to drive home at night in the snow. They had to drop off Dickens at the vicarage first. It took them twenty minutes to get to the Ravenwood estate in Cambridgeshire and from the gate to the main house itself, it was another mile. </p>
<p>The structure, which was rumored to have forty-five bedrooms, was three hundred years old and flanked by oak trees at all sides. The fifteen-foot-tall double-doors were opened by a giant man of Asiatic descent and indeterminate age. Sidney figured he was anywhere from thirty to sixty-five. He was wearing a cleanly-tailored black suit. </p>
<p>He looked at Sidney with suspicion, but a measure of hostility eased when he saw Inspector Keating standing next to him. </p>
<p>"Hello, Mr. Butler, is Lady Susan available to see us? No, we don't have an appointment."</p>
<p>The man bowed. "Very well, Mr. Keating. I shall see if my lady is at home. Please wait here." The big man shut the door in their faces. </p>
<p>Sidney looked at Geordie with lifted eyebrows. "That was a little weird."</p>
<p>One corner of his friend's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Chambers."</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Milkmaid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney visits Ravenwood Manor in Cambridgeshire with Geordie to meet the mysterious Lady Susan, a person of interest.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In this chapter, I introduce four original characters and setting.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The enormous, heavy oak doors creaked open again and the formidable Mr. Butler stepped aside to let the two of them in. He and Geordie handed their outerwear to him and he accepted them without a word. Sidney had the oddest notion that the man would toss their garments out the door the moment their backs were turned. </p>
<p>A few steps into the white marble foyer revealed a slender, petite Asian woman in her twenties dressed in a slim ivory skirt suit fitted to her body. The first thing Sidney noticed about her were her scarlet-tinted lips. They were stark red upon her small, pale face. Round eyeglasses mounted in black wire frames were perched on her short, thin nose and her black hair was scraped back elegantly into a chignon. Small pearls decorated her ears.</p>
<p>"Mr. Keating," she said with a nod. "I am surprised to see you here. I thought you had finished with your interviews."</p>
<p>Her voice reminded Sidney of wind-chimes swaying gently in the breeze at spring. Her English was perfect, but the accent was not British. He smiled at her, but she didn't even look at him. </p>
<p>"I apologize, Miss Chan." Geordie bowed slightly from the waist. "A few more questions came up that I would like to pose to your lady, if I may. I've also brought with me the vicar of Grantchester who would be honored to make her acquaintance." He turned toward Sidney. "Canon Chambers, I would like to make known to you Miss Jing-Mei Chan, the Lady Susan's personal secretary. Miss Chan, this is Canon Sidney Chambers, the vicar of Grantchester, your neighboring village."</p>
<p>Sidney slid Geordie a sidelong glance. In all the years he'd known the man, he'd never witnessed him act so politely. His manners were nigh impeccable. He turned to the woman as she finally looked at him. She made no bones about inspecting him from head to toe and apparently finding him lacking as evidenced by the look of displeasure that crossed her face, as though she just smelled something unpleasant. </p>
<p>"I'm glad to meet you, Miss Chan," Sidney said, holding out his hand for a shake. He wasn't quite sure what the etiquette was when making new acquaintances in the Chinese culture, but he believed that the handshake was getting to be pretty universal and it worked just fine for brash Americans, didn't it? </p>
<p>The woman nodded at him, but ignored his hand. She lifted her chin to address someone over his shoulder. She was at least a foot shorter than him. "Mr. Butler, please bring refreshments to the drawing room." With one raised eyebrow, she flicked her gaze over him and Geordie before turning away. "Follow me."</p>
<p>Sidney met his friend's amused glance, but Geordie didn't say anything, merely shrugged and laughed quietly before following the woman whose heels clicked along the white marble, echoing down the hall until she made a left into an arched doorway which Sidney assumed was the drawing room. Having noted where the two of them went, he decided to take his time, observing the wall decorations and the statues displayed in shelves and on mounts. He stared at a large colorful tapestry of a group of Chinese girls sitting next to a river, watching large red and blue fish, and holding parasols over their heads to protect themselves from a bright yellow sun. Over the river is a bridge where three more girls stood, all holding lutes and grinning. Just beyond the river is a grand pagoda, surrounded on both sides by cherry blossom trees, where young girls and boys sat on the steps petting a giant tiger who looked as tame as the family dog. Sidney thought it had to be one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen in a long time. The colors were so vivid and alive. He wondered who the artist was. </p>
<p>There were a few more objects of interest on the wall: a couple of portraits of whom he took to be ancestors, a few seascapes painted by artists of some renown, and oddly enough, a Rembrandt and a John William Waterhouse, both fakes. Sidney knew they were fakes because the real Rembrandt hung in the gallery where Amanda worked and the Waterhouse belonged to a millionaire British ex-pat in Berlin whose house party he attended while he was in a conference in Germany last year. He walked on, intending to join the rest of the party, but stopped when he saw a space on the wall where a large frame had recently hung and was there no longer. He could tell by the discoloration of the paint caused by years of accumulated dust and sun bleaching, a perfect rectangle. </p>
<p>Geordie poked his head out of the drawing room. "Are you coming, Chambers? You're being unbearably rude, you know, by keeping her ladyship waiting."</p>
<p>Sidney cleared his throat, feeling slightly chastened, and ran his hand through his hair in an attempt to set it to rights. Amanda used to tease him about his hair because according to her, it never behaved, giving him the appearance of a perpetually misbehaving boy. That was definitely not the look he should be going for, especially if he were about to meet the daughter of a marquess.</p>
<p>He stepped into the room and found Geordie and Miss Chan, along with one other woman who he assumed was Lady Susan. She was thin and almost as tall as Geordie, who was six inches shorter than him. Her figure, he supposed, was what could be described as willowy.  She was dressed in a yellow ankle-length, empire-waisted gown that was made of layers of chiffon and light muslin. It had a white Peter Pan collar and a row of Mother of pearl buttons that started at her throat and went halfway down her front. The sleeves were long, see-through, and ruffled at the wrists. She had shiny black hair that Sidney guessed probably went down to her waist, but at the moment, it was restrained in a braid and rolled into a bun that resembled a crown near the top of her head and secured by countless pins. She had delicate, elfin features that reminded Sidney of a doll's face, and small, pink ears that charmed him. When she smiled shyly at him, she flashed perfect white teeth that belonged in a toothpaste advert. </p>
<p>Dear God, she was absolutely gorgeous. She was almost angelic in her good looks. Why did Geordie describe her as disfigured? Were her imperfections somewhere he couldn't see? </p>
<p>"My lady, I apologize--" he blurted, neglecting his manners. He hadn't been introduced to her yet, so he really shouldn't be speaking to her.</p>
<p>A voice rang out from somewhere across the room, closer to the window, and Sidney realized there was much more to the space than he originally thought. It was twice as big. The timbre of the voice that spoke was soft and husky, a lower register. It also spoke in a language he didn't understand. He thought it might have been Chinese.</p>
<p>He searched for the source of the voice and found a slight figure seated in the nook of the large bay windows covered by ivory lace curtains, holding a tambour frame for needlework in her hands. Sidney squinted in order to see her better, unable to believe that he had missed her in the first place. He had always prided himself for his keen observational skills. He felt the heat of her gaze on him, though he couldn't be one hundred percent sure she was looking at him, because as Geordie had warned him, she wore a veil. A black one. Sidney cursed inwardly. If he could have reached his own arse, he would have kicked it. </p>
<p>The young woman in the yellow dress, who was decidedly not the Lady Susan, turned to the one in the black veil and curtsied gracefully before speaking in the same foreign language. The lady in question replied so softly that Sidney had to strain his ears to hear her. He was loathe to turn away from her, but found himself quite lost, so first he turned to Geordie who only shrugged, then to the young woman in the yellow dress, who had opened her wide lace fan and was now hiding behind it, with only her dark eyes and the top of her head showing. </p>
<p>Finally, Geordie said, "Miss Jifie Lee, this is Canon Sidney Chambers, our local vicar. Canon Chambers, this is Miss Lee, the cousin of the Honorable Lady Susan." </p>
<p>Sidney was relieved when she extended her small gloved in the English manner he was accustomed to. He bowed over it, but did not kiss it, straightening immediately. He noted Geordie's careful pronunciation of her Christian name "gee-FAY" and stored it away for future reference. "I'm honored to make your acquaintance."</p>
<p>She bowed her head. "Likewise, Canon Chambers, but I'm sure you are here to meet my venerable cousin, Lady Susan."</p>
<p>At the sound of her name, the woman at the window rose with some difficulty. Miss Chan, her secretary, who was standing by the fireplace, hurried to her side and took her elbow, which the lady shook off. Looking at Sidney, Lady Susan executed a curtsey which seemed to cause her some discomfort. </p>
<p>Sidney was horrified. "Oh no, my lady, you need not curtsy to me. I'm merely clergy."</p>
<p>The lady tilted her head toward her secretary who seemed to translate for her, after which she nodded. She shifted her attention to Sidney again and bowed her head slightly. </p>
<p>Miss Lee made the proper introductions this time and since the lady did not hold out her hand, Sidney kept his distance and instead, hinged himself downward at the waist in a low bow, one arm braced against his stomach and the other at his back. He couldn't remember having to bow so formally since he played a courtier in Richard III during university. </p>
<p>Lady Susan was dressed as though she belonged in another century. While Miss Lee’s outfit was rather old-fashioned, Lady Susan’s get-up was positively Victorian. Sidney thought she might as well have stepped out of H.G. Wells’ Time Machine. Her black and violet gown, which overwhelmed her petite figure, appeared to have been made from bombazine, referred to as widow's weeds because it was the preferred garb of old women in mourning. Sidney couldn't stop looking at her, even though he knew he should, because it was bordering on rude. And yet he had the feeling that she was staring at him, too. </p>
<p>"Refreshments! Thank you, Martha," said Miss Lee in a cheerful voice, drawing Sidney's attention. "Come have some jasmine plum tea, Canon Chambers, and partake in some Chinese pastries that I bet you've never sampled. We have a French chef who trained in Shanghai. Come sit down, Inspector Keating."</p>
<p>Sidney took the seat that was indicated to him by Miss Lee, an emerald brocade sofa with polished cherry oak armrests and very soft cushions. Geordie sat next to him. When Miss Lee offered him a plate piled high with food items he didn't recognize, as well as an Oriental style teacup with no handle and filled with rose-colored tea, Sidney accepted them gratefully, vaguely aware that he was quite hungry and didn't really care how exotic the desserts looked. Geordie, however, didn't seem too sure. </p>
<p>Miss Lee appeared amused at Geordie's uncertainty. Before handing him his own plate,  she pointed out each item and called them out by name. "This light brown ball covered in seeds is a sesame ball. It's deep fried dough. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the  inside. Within it is sweet red bean paste. It's really quite good. This little tart that has a yellow filling isn't a lemon tart, but an egg tart. It's made from yolk. The white bun-like thing which has a fluffy, pillowy texture is a steamed bun with a sweet egg custard inside. The eggs are from a duck. The buns with a red dot on top have a sweet barbecue pork inside, instead. They are all Lady Susan's favorites.  What you have before you in toto is called dim sum."</p>
<p>Fascinated, Sidney repeated the foreign phrase to himself. Giving Geordie a look of challenge, he picked up the white bun with the red dot on top of it and bit into it. As the flavors exploded in his mouth, Sidney couldn't help the moan of appreciation that escaped him. It was sweet and savory at the same time, with just the right amount of heat to it. Miss Lee was right. The bun couldn't be described as anything but pillowy. Dear God, it was amazing. He had to close his eyes, it was so good. And the pork was so tender...</p>
<p>"Are you all right, vicar?" Geordie's familiar voice cut into his enjoyment. </p>
<p>When he opened his eyes, everyone was staring at him, even Lady Susan, who was being helped  by Miss Chan into a seat, a tall, wingback chair with quilted cushions covered with silver and burgundy damask fabric. It was old and fit for a queen. She was directly across from him now, with only a wide, heavy coffee table between them, made of African blackwood. </p>
<p>"I'm fine." Embarrassed, Sidney picked up his cup of tea and gulped down a mouthful, without allowing it to cool, thus promptly burning the roof of his mouth. He winced and set down his teacup immediately back on his saucer on the table, spilling a bit on his hand. Cursing softly, he sat back against the sofa cushions and pulled out his handkerchief to wipe up his mess. "I'm so sorry, is there somewhere I can clean up?"</p>
<p>Lady Susan picked up a tiny bell from the table next to her and no sooner did she ring it that Mr. Butler entered the drawing room and silently approached his employer. </p>
<p>Geordie smacked Sidney on the shoulder with the back of his hand. "You bumbling oaf," he hissed. "What are you up to?"</p>
<p>Sidney, who'd been soothing the burned roof of his mouth with his tongue, glared at his friend. "Nothing. I just want to find the privy and lick my wounds in private."</p>
<p>He must have spoken louder than he intended for the grim-faced Mr. Butler turned to face him and said,  "Come, I'll show you the way."</p>
<p>Sidney felt the heat rise to his cheeks and knew they had to be bright red right now. He set his plate of food down and struggled to get to his feet. </p>
<p>"I'll have some ice water for you when you return, Canon Chambers," said Miss Chan, Lady Susan's secretary. </p>
<p>Sidney wanted to sink into the ground and die. Instead, he bowed before the ladies. "Thank you," he murmured before hurrying to follow the butler down the hall. </p>
<p>Mr. Butler escorted him to a room under the grand staircase that led to the second floor and left him to his own devices. It was almost as big as his own room back at the vicarage. Inside, Sidney found a double basin pedestal ceramic sink against the wall with a large gilded rectangular mirror above it. There was also a shower stall with glass walls; about a three by three cube, Sidney surmised. Next to it was a tall shelf filled with rolled up towels, then an ornate chaise longue that would have suited Empress Josephine herself.  </p>
<p>He was wondering were the toilet was when he came across a door immediately to his right. He went to it, opened it, and found the toilet. It was in its own separate room. To his surprise, it had a bidet attachment. He'd read about them in novels, but never experienced them. He wouldn't know the first thing about using it. Blushing to the roots of his hair, he ignored it, used the facilities, and flushed the toilet. Afterwards, he made the best out of setting himself to rights, made sure his hair wasn't too unruly, and washed his hands with some lemon-scented soap bar before returning to the drawing room. </p>
<p>When he got there, he found Geordie gingerly eating the items on his plate, but obviously enjoying it because half of them were gone. He looked up to acknowledge Sidney and wiped his mouth and hands on a napkin. "All set, mate?"</p>
<p>The three women glanced at him with interest and Sidney suddenly wished he were somewhere else. Miss Lee sat closest to where he was standing, in an armchair as grand as her cousin's, with her hands folded on her lap. A plate of food and a teacup on a saucer lay on the coffee table in front her. In the armchair next to her was Lady Susan, holding her tambour frame in her hands as though it were the steering wheel of a car. He could tell she was watching him even though her black veil was nearly opaque because he could feel the heat of her gaze on his skin. He couldn't explain the sensation, but it was quite discomforting and he rather wished she wouldn't do it. Next to her stood Miss Chan, who reminded him of a sentry at the ready, also looking at him as though she expected him to do something, like a stupid party trick. What had gone on while he was in the water closet?  </p>
<p>Feeling self-conscious, he returned to his seat on the sofa by the fireplace, across the coffee table from Lady Susan. Next to his teacup on a lace doily was a tall glass of water with ice floating in it. Once again, his face burned with his embarrassment. </p>
<p>"Chambers?" his friend prompted softly with concern, but also with a modicum of teasing, for his green eyes still glittered with a trace of humor. </p>
<p>"I'm fine, Inspector, thank you," he replied, more coolly than he intended. He picked up the glass of water and drank deeply before replacing it on the lace doily. He sighed as the cold soothed the burning in his mouth. "What has been discussed in my absence?"</p>
<p>Geordie nodded once, all business now. "I had just informed Lady Susan that Judith Myers was four months pregnant at the time of her death and wanted to know if she knew anything about it."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Case of Miscommunication</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney finds out that he and Lady Susan have a language barrier problem. Meanwhile, his friends and family have a surprise waiting for him at home.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Takes place in Series 4. Sidney met and fell in love with Violet, but decided to stay in Grantchester.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lady Susan glanced up at her secretary who translated for her, then back at Geordie, whom she answered in Chinese. Her voice was calm, the cadence thoughtful and deliberate. She had her head cocked to the side and her fingers folded around the embroidery frame on her lap. After she finished, she looked up at Miss Chan again to speak for her. </p>
<p>Sidney frowned and picked up his glass to sip from it again. Why didn't Geordie tell him that the widow didn't speak English? That seemed like an important bit of information and something the inspector would have normally imparted with him. He set his glass down and forced himself to pay attention to Miss Chan, though his attention kept drifting to Lady Susan. </p>
<p>"As we told you already, Inspector, Miss Myers was not with us for very long," Miss Chan reported in a flat tone. "She didn't know us well enough for her to share such intimacies. No, inspector, we had no idea she was pregnant."</p>
<p>"Surely one of you must have noticed?" Geordie pressed. "She was four months along. Doesn't a woman usually sense these things about another woman?"</p>
<p>The three ladies conferred, their high-pitched voices lilting in their foreign language and heads close together, with occasional glances at him and Geordie. Sidney thought it might be funny if it weren't so bizarre. This went on for a few minutes and might have gone on longer if Geordie hadn't cleared his throat quite distinctly and Miss Lee returned to her seat. </p>
<p>"How would we know anything about such things, Inspector?" Miss Lee asked primly, adjusting her skirts around her. "Miss Chan and I are unmarried and my lady has never had children. We are inexperienced in such things."</p>
<p>Geordie bobbed his head, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. "There is something else." He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag. Within it was a stark red ribbon about an inch wide and a foot long. "This was found tied around her wrist. Does it look familiar to any of you?"</p>
<p>"It's just a plain red ribbon, Inspector," said Miss Lee. "Surely it's a common enough thing that it can be found anywhere?"</p>
<p>"Not this one," Geordie rebutted, shaking his head. "It's a special kind of velvet that comes from a very specific province in New Zealand. Very expensive, I was told by our coroner."</p>
<p>Sidney was surprised. Why didn't Geordie show him this bit of evidence at the pub earlier? He must have wanted to see his reaction along with the ladies. Sidney was indeed perturbed, though he tried not show it on his face. Amanda said he was the most expressive person out of anyone she'd ever met. </p>
<p>Lady Susan placed her hand on Miss Chan's arm and tugged, so that the young woman bent down until her ear was at the level of her lady's mouth. Miss Chan frowned, murmured a reply, listened a bit, but nodded, then straightened. "My lady says the ribbon belonged to her. She'd been about to discard it, but Miss Myers asked for it, instead."</p>
<p>Geordie looked at the ribbon in the bag and studied it. "But why get rid of it? It looks like a perfectly nice ribbon." He handed it to Sidney.</p>
<p>Sidney wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it, but he took it anyway. Once again, something niggled at the back of his memory, but refused to fully form as an idea. He looked the ribbon, so vivid and scarlet, that it reminded him of a fresh drop of blood on a snow white cloth. </p>
<p>"It had fallen off from a hat that my lady no longer wears," Miss Chan told him. "It's mere frippery, Inspector. I don't understand its significance nor its connection to us."</p>
<p>"Don't you?" Geordie plucked the evidence bag out of Sidney's hands and put it back in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. "Miss Myers was found in a well on a dairy farm that is a part of your brother's estate, Lady Susan. Morning Glory Farm in St. Michael's Mead. It's one of the dairy farms owned by your family, isn't it?"</p>
<p>It seemed to Sidney that Lady Susan had been about to shake her head, but caught herself and bowed instead, resembling a lamp as her black veil seemed to merge with her black bombazine gown. Her secretary placed her hand on her upper back as though to give her support. Sidney wanted to get up from his seat, kneel next to her, and offer her comfort. And yet he stayed where he was. To offer succor to someone who was clearly suffering was almost reflexive to him, but with her, he hesitated. There was something about her that genuinely drew him to her, yet repulsed him at the same time. He couldn't recall ever feeling anything like it before. </p>
<p>Perhaps it was because she clearly displayed signs of not wanting to be disturbed by anyone, save for those she closely depended upon. <em>Noli me tangere, touch me not</em>, as Jesus said to Mary Magdalene. She was like a wounded animal, long tortured and betrayed by those who were supposed to love and care for her, so she'd given up hope and crawled deeply into herself for self-protection. Sidney understood that. After the war, he wanted nothing more than to drown himself in the bottom of a whisky bottle so he could forget the horrors his soul had experienced.</p>
<p>Lady Susan had lost her husband, lover, and twin sister in such short amount of time. He couldn't imagine why the woman wouldn't be in perpetual mourning. It was in times like these that Sidney struggled to reconcile his faith in a kind, merciful God and One who allowed such things to happen to people like Lady Susan. Why put her through such tribulations? He knew in his heart that God had a plan for everyone, but sometimes he was hard pressed to determine for himself what that was. </p>
<p>"You'll have to talk to Mr. Herbert Stevens, Inspector," said Miss Chan. "He is the estate manager in charge of Morning Glory, I believe. We have only been in England for less than a month. I do not understand why you persist to disturb us with this matter. We are sorry that this girl is this dead, but we have nothing else to do with her. Perhaps it is better that you contact the marquess in London, instead."</p>
<p>Lady Susan raised her head and put a restraining hand, it seemed to Sidney, on the secretary's arm, as Miss Chan appeared to be getting overwrought. At her employer's touch, Miss Chan took a breath, after which her shoulders relaxed and the knot between her eyebrows eased. </p>
<p>"Jing-Mei," said Miss Lee softly. "Please take a seat and have some tea."</p>
<p>Lady Susan looked at her secretary and nodded. Only then did Miss Chan leave her side by the fireplace and sat on the ottoman between the armchairs occupied by the two cousins. Miss Lee poured a cup of tea for the other woman and handed it to her. </p>
<p>Sidney studied the veiled lady in front of him. He had no doubt in his mind that she could understand English perfectly. After all, she was born in England and both of her companions spoke fluent English. She'd also been married to an American and the lover after him was British. So why the subterfuge? The lady was a puzzle, indeed. Maybe she just preferred speaking Chinese. </p>
<p>"My lady, if there's anything at all that you can tell us that would help move this investigation along, we would greatly appreciate it," Sidney implored her. It was a shot in the dark, to see if she would respond to him. "We have no leads at all and the trail is growing cold."</p>
<p>"Sidney..." Geordie said warningly. </p>
<p>He winced inwardly, acknowledging his error. It wasn't the best plan in the world to let your only suspect know that you've got nothing to hang them on, and therefore probably shouldn't be harassing them. But it was a gamble. </p>
<p>Lady Susan glanced at him and Sidney would swear that her gaze met his. He couldn't tell if it was a trick of the firelight, but he thought she might have looked at him with tears in her eyes before she blinked and turned her head toward the other women and spoke in a language that Sidney couldn't understand. </p>
<p>"My cousin is very tired and would like to retire now, gentlemen," Miss Lee announced with finality. She directed her attention to Geordie. "If you have any more questions regarding this matter, please direct them to Mr. Stevens at Morning Glory Farm or at Lady Susan's solicitor in London. Mr. Butler will have that information for you when he escorts you out. Otherwise, you will have to contact my lady's brother, Lord Ravenwood, at the New Scotland Yard."</p>
<p>Sidney cursed under his breath. He didn't expect her to completely shut down on him. Maybe he had to get her alone and speak to her. Fat lot that would do if it turned out she really didn't speak English, but somehow he knew that wasn't the case. He could feel Geordie's dirty look burning a hole on the side of his face, so he had some explaining to do. </p>
<p>But before he could say anything else, the giant butler was at the entrance to the drawing room, ready to throw the both of them out in the cold. He bowed before the three women. "I deeply apologize for the inconvenience we caused you this afternoon. We thank you for your warm hospitality and wish you a fine evening."</p>
<p>Geordie was much more succinct in his farewell. "Good night, ladies."</p>
<p>The three women stood when they did and Lady Susan inclined her head in acknowledgement when they said their goodbyes. The other two remained silent, merely stared at them with their dark eyes as though following their mistress's lead. Mr. Butler walked them down the long hall toward the double doors. </p>
<p>"Did you get to interact much with Judith Myers, Mr. Butler?" asked Geordie as the man handed him his chapeau and overcoat. </p>
<p>"No, sir. Talked to her a bit during her interview, but it was Mrs. Wong, the lady's aunt, who did the full vetting of her. And Martha, sir, the assistant housekeeper, since Gibbs is away on leave with her sick sister in Brixton."</p>
<p>Geordie raised his eyebrows, clearly not expecting such loquacity from the previously laconic butler. He whipped out his notepad and jotted down the new names. "Who is Mrs. Wong, pray tell?"</p>
<p>"She is the younger sister of the late marquess, sir. There was the Lady Beatrice and Mrs. Gemma Wong. She is now in London visiting with the current marquess."</p>
<p>Geordie nodded as he wrote down the additional information. "Did your mistress direct you to provide us with these details?"</p>
<p>The giant man blinked. "But of course she did, Inspector."</p>
<p>"Ah. Do you think we'd able to speak to Martha before we leave?"</p>
<p>"I'm afraid not, sir. Martha will be assisting the lady of the house since we have not yet found a replacement for Miss Myers."</p>
<p>"Right. Thank you for all your help, Mr. Butler."</p>
<p>Sidney busied himself putting on his outerwear as Geordie jotted down the contact details of Lady Susan's solicitor and Lord Ravenwood's London townhouse where he might be able to find Mrs. Gemma Wong. He resolved not to say anything until they were out of the house and in the car on the way back to Grantchester. He thought it'd been a pretty productive visit, considering Geordie had initially objected to him seeing Lady Susan. </p>
<p>But then he remembered all of the bits the inspector kept from him, then sprang on him during the interview, and wondered if Geordie had pulled one over on him. He slid his friend a suspicious glance as he started up the car. "You couldn't have warned me ahead of time that she doesn't speak English?"</p>
<p>"Must have slipped my mind," the inspector murmured wryly. "Now shut up and let me concentrate on driving, Chambers. The wood makes me nervous at night."</p>
<p>It was nearly dinner time when Geordie pulled up to the vicarage. Sidney invited him in for a drink so they could discuss the case for a bit, but his friend said he had to get home and cook dinner for the kids, since Cathy was doing inventory at the shop and won't be home till late. Sidney thought it would be a good idea to invite them all for dinner one night, but reminded himself to give Mrs. Chapman plenty of warning ahead of time or she'd kill him. Geordie told him to be ready in the morning and took off. </p>
<p>When he entered his home, there were more voices to greet him than usual and Dickens at the door to say hello. In the sitting room were Daniel Marlowe, Leonard, and his friend, Will Davenport, a chaplain in Cambridge. He could hear Mrs. C in kitchen, along with her husband, Jack Chapman. "Summertime" by Sidney Bechet was on the record player. He recognized it immediately. </p>
<p>"What's going on?" he asked warily, eyeing the expectant look on people's faces. </p>
<p>The Bechet cut out and the lights were turned off. Seconds later, the room was illuminated by candles from behind him and he heard someone take a deep breath before singing, "Happy birthday to you..."</p>
<p>Sidney groaned. Awww, his bloody birthday, which meant it was Valentine's Day, too. Had he been so isolated in the vicarage that he hadn't seen signs of the most romantic day of the year? Every year, the chapel got at least three to five requests for weddings around February fourteen, if not on the day of, but the winter season must have been so forbidding this year that it scared off the would-be "hand-holders," as Mrs. C called them, or Leonard had been taking care of them without bothering him. Another thing to feel guilty about. </p>
<p>Sidney closed his eyes, made a wish for world peace, and blew out the candles on the cake Mrs. C baked for him. Vanilla with chocolate frosting as she had every year for the past five years. </p>
<p>"I had a devil of time getting you off the sofa and out of the house today, Sidney Chambers," Mrs. C grumbled as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek. "And poor Leonard almost didn't make it back from St. Michael's Mead this afternoon from a delivery. Mrs. Ansel Turnberry had twin boys."</p>
<p>Somebody turned on the lights again and Bechet was replaced by Fats Domino. Sidney looked at Leonard who was beaming, though trying to appear humble. "When did you become a midwife?"</p>
<p>"Oh, you know, I do what I can..." Leonard stammered. </p>
<p>"I hear pregnant ladies love Leonard in the delivery room," said Will, slugging an arm around his blushing friend's shoulders. "He offers great comfort. Certainly more helpful than a fainting husband. I'm certain I don't have the constitution."</p>
<p>"Hear, hear," said Jack Chapman. "He was there for my Isabel when she gave birth to Caroline. It was a difficult one, but Leonard helped her pull through!"</p>
<p>Sidney felt another stab of guilt go through him. This was his parish and yet it had been Leonard taking care of them, witnessing births and counseling engaged couples. Even walking his dog! He turned to Leonard, this funny, little man he had taken for granted for far too long, and gave him a tight hug.</p>
<p>"Thank you, Leonard, for taking care of our people," he whispered and gave him a couple of hearty slaps on the back. "I'm here now, I promise."</p>
<p>"Welcome back, Sidney. We've missed you," said his friend, embracing him back. "Happy birthday."</p>
<p>Sidney swallowed hard and blinked rapidly to fight back tears as he met the gaze of a smiling, but teary-eyed Mrs. C over Leonard's shoulder. </p>
<p>"Hey, now, let's not let Leonard hog the spotlight," teased Daniel Marlowe. "It's Sidney's birthday, after all. And we've got presents!"</p>
<p>Mrs. C put her hands on her hips and glowered at Sidney. "And where were you today, young man, that you were out so late? You were just supposed to be taking the dog out for a walk. We almost gave up on you."</p>
<p>Sidney couldn't help the grin that split his face. "Then you shouldn't have sent Geordie Keating out to find me."</p>
<p>His housekeeper scowled. "Don't tell me you two are up to your old tricks."</p>
<p>Sidney winked at her. "Then don't push me to break the ninth commandment." He chuckled at the look of outrage on her face. "Anyway, you'll never guess where I've been for the last couple of hours."</p>
<p>Mrs. C glanced up at ceiling and made the sign of the cross over herself. "Oh, Lord, what den of iniquity did my boy visit today?"</p>
<p>"Mrs. C, I didn't even remember it was my birthday today," he protested. In fact, he had the sneaking suspicion that everyone forgot until the last minute. Geordie certainly didn't remember. "No, I was at Ravenwood Manor."</p>
<p>His housekeeper's mouth dropped open. "Don't tell fibs, Sidney Chambers. You weren't there."</p>
<p>Sidney laughed and accepted the plate of cake that Jack handed to him. "I was and met all our new neighbors. They're very nice ladies."</p>
<p>"Mr. Brant says they're Orientals and heathens from China," muttered his beloved housekeeper.</p>
<p>"Heaven forbid we should have some cross cultural exchange," said Will Davenport, digging into his cake with gusto. "I, for one, welcome our new neighbors from the Far East."</p>
<p>"I dream of going to China!" gushed Leonard. "Thousands of years fascinating history and people. I can't wait to meet them."</p>
<p>"Oh, for Pete's sake," said Sidney with exasperation. "They all speak perfect English and dress like perfect English ladies. The woman who lives there is, after all, the sister of the Marquess of Ravenwood."</p>
<p>Mrs. C gasped. "Oh my!"</p>
<p>Sidney looked worriedly at his housekeeper's pale face. "What is it, Mrs. C?"</p>
<p>"Whoever's there can't possibly be Lady Susan Fenwick. I thought she died in a car crash in Malaya three years ago."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Happy birthday, Sidney!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney celebrates his 35th birthday with his Grantchester friends and family</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sidney and the Granchester gang don't belong to me. (sobs)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sidney, were you having tea with a ghost this afternoon?" asked Leonard with a teasing glint in his hazel eyes. </p><p>"No, I wasn't. I was there with Geordie Keating and a whole cast of other characters," he replied with a half-laugh. He turned to Mrs. C, his arms crossed over his chest. "What are you saying? She was right there. She introduced herself to a police officer as Lady Susan Fenwick."</p><p>Well, actually, she didn't. Her cousin and secretary did. The lady never introduced herself at all, now that Sidney thought about it. Still, Geordie must have confirmed her identity the first time he met her, surely. She must have had some kind of proof. </p><p>Mrs. C waved her hand dismissively. "It's not appropriate party conversation, Sidney. Come, let's put it away from now. I've made you some Yorkshire pudding and that sausage gravy you've been pestering me about for months. Took me hours, mind you."</p><p>Sidney hugged his grumpy housekeeper and kissed the top of her head, even as she tried to wriggle away. With a deep breath and a loud exhale, he actively pushed his concerns to the mental back-burner. He'd been so introverted for the past several months that he'd forgotten how he much he enjoyed the company of his friends and people who cared about him. He intended to fully enjoy their warmth and presence now. </p><p>Jack helped Mrs. C set up the dinner table, though Sidney had insisted on helping. But instead, he was ushered to the drawing room along with the "rest of the the boys" to savor a bottle of a vintage cognac that Will Davenport had brought as a gift for him. Leonard threw a couple of logs into the hearth, while Daniel put on a record by Count Basie. Will was at the drinks table, pouring a serving into four snifters. Sidney was pointedly told to sit down and relax. Dickens joined him soon enough and plopped himself at his feet. </p><p>"So, how goes the crime rate in Grantchester?" Will asked, taking the armchair next to his by the large picture window that looked out to the front yard. </p><p>Will Davenport was as tall as he was, but a little more muscular in build because he kept fit by boxing. Black-haired and blue-eyed, he was a handsome young man who was four years Sidney's junior and a fellow Corpus Christi alum. During the time he contemplated leaving the church so he could marry Amanda, a divorced woman, the Archdeacon had considered Will as a replacement vicar, but Sidney had thought him too young. The Archdeacon pointed out that Sidney was the same age as Will when he first came to Grantchester. </p><p>He envied Will the idealism that the younger man still possessed, as well as the zeal and energy he had to want to save the world, armed with only his Bible and unshakeable faith that he had a true calling. Sidney wanted to believe he still had that in himself and most days, he woke up with a burning need in his heart to spread the good word, minister to his flock, and live the path of Jesus. And then there were days when he just wanted to pack what he could fit in a small bag, hit the road, and keep heading north till there was nowhere left on the map. </p><p>"It's been pretty quiet, actually," Sidney told Will, sipping his cognac, which was admittedly excellent. "In the last six months, we've had two armed robberies, three incidents of indecent exposures, a handful of public intoxications, and five domestics." He took another mouthful of his drink, hesitated, then added, "And a murder a few days ago. The victim lived here, but she was murdered in St. Michael's Mead."</p><p>"That's terrible," said Will. He took out a cigarette for himself and lit it before offering the pack to Sidney. "St. Michael's Mead is about an hour from here, right? Where all those dairy farms are?"</p><p>Sidney took one, leaned over toward Will's lighter, then eased back to his seat and drew hard on his cigarette. He hadn't wanted to think about Judith Myers anymore tonight, but his mind wouldn't let go. That poor girl... "Yeah, the dairy farms. She was found drowned in a well." </p><p>Having overheard their conversation, Leonard stood before them with his hand over his mouth. "Oh my goodness, that's horrendous. Do you know the family, Sidney?"</p><p>Sidney shook his head. "I was going to ask Mrs. C in the morning if she knew them. The mother's name is Elsie Myers. She works at Swinnerton's with Cathy Keating."</p><p>"Are you assisting Inspector Keating on this case?" Will wanted to know. He had met Geordie last year during the investigation of the murder of Charles Todd, Violet's brother. A suspect had revealed integral facts to the case to Will, but it was given to him in confidence as a priest. He and Geordie had clashed over Will's unwillingness to share the suspect's confession. </p><p>Sidney drew on his cigarette again and hesitated once more. He knew Will disapproved of the work he did with the police, since it often took away from his clerical duties, leaving Leonard take on the brunt of his work. "Geordie only came to see me today. The police don't really have any leads."</p><p>"How did you end up at Ravenwood Manor?" Daniel asked, sitting on the sofa and setting his drink on a coaster on the table in front of him. "I thought that place was supposed to be abandoned. There was a Hollywood horror movie filmed there three years ago, you know. A Dracula film."</p><p>Sidney made a mental note of this. "There was? Interesting. No, it was in great shape while I was there this afternoon. It's currently being occupied by the sister of the marquess as well as a cousin and some servants. I understand her aunt died just last year and she had lived in the house before the current residents."</p><p>"Oh, well, Cambridge high society must be atwitter that they have new blood in the vicinity," Daniel said with a raised eyebrow, looking pointedly at Will. </p><p>The young chaplain, who grew up the son of landed gentry, did not look amused. "Not if she's foreign."</p><p>"Not lily-white, you mean," Sidney muttered sardonically, then finished off his drink. He handed his glass to Leonard when the other man asked for it and gladly accepted it as soon as it was given back refilled. "I didn't get the impression that the upper crust of Cambridge society has been lining up at the front door in a hurry to make them feel welcome."</p><p>Leonard took his own drink and sat on the opposite side of the sofa as Daniel Marlowe. "These people should be thankful for the influx of new blood. The lot of them have been inbreeding for so long, I wouldn't be surprised if half of their children didn't have webbed feet!"</p><p>It was that very moment that Mrs. Chapman just happened to walk in to announce that dinner was ready. "Mr. Finch, what an abominable thing to say."</p><p>Leonard flinched, but Sidney winked at him in conspiracy and made him chuckle. He put his arm around the other man and escorted him to the dinner table as the Chapmans told the rest of them that it was time to eat. Mrs. C had Sidney sit at the head of the table and Leonard at the other end. Will and Daniel sat at his left, then Mrs. C and Jack at his right. The lady confiscated all cigarettes and put them out forcibly before ordering Sidney to say grace. </p><p>He smiled at the beloved friends he considered family and uttered: <em>"Benedic, Domine, nos et dona tua, quae de largitate tua sumus sumpturi, et concede, ut illis salubriter nutriti tibi debitum obsequium praestare valeamus, per Christum Dominum nostrum."</em></p><p>"Amen," said Leonard. </p><p>"Amen," everyone else repeated. </p><p>Daniel chuckled. "Latin, impressive."</p><p>"It doesn't count if it isn't," said Sidney with a raised eyebrow. </p><p>Mrs. C frowned at him. "You wicked boy." She passed him the carving knife. "The goose, if you please."</p><p>The housekeeper had created quite a spread. Along with the roasted goose, there were baked potatoes, cabbage rolls, candied carrots, Yorkshire pudding, and sausage gravy. Sidney wondered how the woman could have produced all of this when he was only gone for a few hours. There was enough to feed a small army. </p><p>Sidney shook his head in awed disbelief and passed the carving knife to Jack who accepted it with the honor of a knight taking on a holy mission from King Arthur himself. He chuckled and patted the old man on the back as Mrs. C rolled her eyes. </p><p>As food and drinks were served and everyone dug in to eat, Sidney looked at his housekeeper, who was busy wiping off something from Jack's face with her own napkin, and asked, "So, Mrs. C, what were you saying earlier about Lady Susan Fenwick being dead?"</p><p>Mrs. C gasped in dismay. "Sidney Chambers, this is not appropriate dinner conversation."</p><p>"Mrs. Chapman, if you please, I'd like to hear about it, too," implored Will Davenport. </p><p>The housekeeper glared at him. "I'll thank you not to encourage the deplorable table manners of our vicar, Mr. Davenport."</p><p>Daniel Marlowe caught Sidney's eye, gave a him brief nod, and took up the plea. "Oh, please, Mrs. Chapman. Tell us about the mysterious Lady Susan."</p><p>Mrs. C scowled at all of them, reserving a special glare for Leonard, warning him not to start. "You are all wicked, terrible men." She heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Well, I'm not one for gossip..."</p><p>"Of course not," Sidney was quick to reassure her. </p><p>"Hmm." Mrs. C made a sound of suspicion, then sipped the red wine, a vice she indulged only occasionally, and sat back against her chair. "I don't know why you don't remember it, Sidney. The accident was covered by London and Cambridge newspapers. The shock of it was what precipitated Lady Beatrice's first major stroke. That must have been back when you were caught up with Miss Kendall."</p><p>Leonard coughed and Sidney glared at him. The other man dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and returned to his dinner. Sidney smiled at his housekeeper. "I was quite green three years ago, Mrs. C, and still learning my parish. Cambridgeshire is outside of my purview. That must be why I never caught wind of it."</p><p>"Lady Beatrice was Amanda Kendall's godmother," said Mrs. C archly.</p><p>Sidney cursed under his breath. He hadn't seen Amanda Kendall since he ended their relationship and she moved back to London with her infant daughter more than a year ago. Their parting had been acrimonious. God willing, he wouldn't have to talk to her. </p><p>"Well," said Leonard brightly. "This does seem like a conversation for another time. Let's talk about cricket!"</p><p>Mrs. C started discussing the fundraiser she, Isabel Livingston, and Mrs. Jane Crandall want to bring up at the next church committee meeting for the possible expansion of the community library. Mrs. Crandall thought a dance would be a good idea, but Mrs. C and Isabel reasoned that it would be a lot of work and they might be spending more money than making. The other major item on the docket was the persistent black mold problem in the vestry, which had been resistant so far to every suggestion presented in Mrs. Beeton's book of household solutions. Mrs. Reynolds had been insisting on strong vinegar, but Mrs. C rejected the idea, because she refused to have the church office smell like a chip shop.</p><p>"I can ask our old stable manager what he uses to clean out the stalls," volunteered Will. "I imagine it's equal parts strong lye, water, and elbow grease."</p><p>When everyone else at the dinner table turned to look at him, Will ducked his head in embarrassment and busied himself with cutting his goose, color rising high on his cheeks. It was unusual for him to bring up his privileged background, but on the rare times that he slipped, it mortified him beyond compare, so they didn't hassle him too much about it. Will was never the type to "put on airs," after all. He was born rich, but no one held it against him. He couldn't help his circumstances any more than anyone could for themselves. </p><p>"That's a fine idea, Will," Jack interceded before his wife could say anything. "I'm sure the committee would welcome any suggestion to defeat this mold problem before it takes over the entire church." </p><p>"Well, perhaps the mold would be a welcome addition to the congregation," Leonard said dryly. "Attendance has been alarmingly low this winter. We were down to fifteen parishioners last Sunday."</p><p>Sidney sighed. It had been on his mind a lot lately. While he had never been able fill every pew--the church could fully seat ninety people--he could at least count on forty-five to sixty congregants attending his service on any given Sunday. He'd been telling himself that attendance would pick right back up come spring. "It's been very cold, Leonard. Most people were snowed in last weekend."</p><p>"I'd rather be bundled up in bed myself, I assure you," said Daniel, earning a glare from Mrs. C.</p><p>Sidney gave him a friendly grin. "If it weren't my vocation, I might think you have the right idea."</p><p>"Mr. Chambers..." his housekeeper said in warning.</p><p>After dinner, Leonard announced it was time for presents and led everyone back to the drawing room. Mrs. C said she had to clear up first, but the curate insisted that it could be put off until later and he would help her with the washing. The old woman relented with the good-natured cajoling of her "boys."</p><p>Sidney's sister Jennifer called from London just as Leonard handed him his first present to open. He apologized to his friend and tucked the box under his arm to take the call. "Hey, Jen!"</p><p>"Big brother, I'm sure you hate me, but Johnny and I couldn't possibly make the drive to Granchester this afternoon. The roads are absolutely horrid. Happy birthday, by the way!"</p><p>Sidney chuckled. "It's fine, Jen. I'm just happy you remembered. I'm sure I'll see the two of you soon enough. Give my warmest regards to Johnny."</p><p>"I will. What are you now, an old man of thirty-six or something?"</p><p>"Heavens, I'm only thirty-five, you minx."</p><p>"Have you heard from Amanda?"</p><p>Sidney felt his good mood dissipate a little. "Why would I? Jen, we broke up more than a year ago."</p><p>"Oh, I was just curious. I bumped into her recently and she asked about you."</p><p>"Great."</p><p>"Have you heard from Matt?"</p><p>"No. You know he only calls me when he needs money. He hasn't been pestering you and Johnny, has he?"</p><p>Sidney was ten years older than his younger brother, to whom his parents referred as a "late" baby. Matt started out promising, clever and bright, "just like our Sidney," his mum often said. In his second year at Oxford, he was sent down for some kind of tutoring scam that involved selling answers to exams to his classmates. </p><p>Their father had been livid. What Matthew had needed, Mr. Chambers the Elder had pronounced, was a war to make a proper man out of him like it had Sidney. Sidney wouldn't have wished his battle experiences on anyone. He still lived the trauma and had screaming nightmares about them to this very day.</p><p>"No, brother, I haven't heard from him, either. Neither have our parental units. Oh, well, he must be cozied up somewhere with his latest tart. You know how he is."</p><p>Though it was easy enough to dismiss his brother as he found himself doing more often these days, Sidney knew Matt needed help. Their parents had been lax in his rearing for he was the youngest and he realized his parents blamed themselves for Matt's shortcomings. "He'll be all right, Jen." He attempted his best to sound convincing for his sister's sake. "Well, listen, I need to get back to my party. Will you let me know when you hear from him?"</p><p>"I will, bro. Enjoy the rest of your birthday!"</p><p>After he hung up with Jennifer, he took a seat next to Leonard on the sofa, who prompted him again to open his gift. Inside the medium-sized box wrapped in silver and green paper was a thick, white Aran pullover that a Scottish fisherman might wear on a cold day. He looked up at his friend in surprise. The others exclaimed in approval. He had never owned anything that felt so... luxurious. "Leonard, what the--I can't accept this. It's too much."</p><p>The man ducked his head, looking flustered. "Eggshell is the color, the stitching is honeycomb style, specific to the Blasket Islands. It didn't cost much, truly. It was on sale at Swinnerton's. Cathy told me I'd be swimming in it, but I thought, since you have such wide shoulders, it would look perfect on you." He met Sidney's eyes and flashed him a smile.</p><p>Sidney felt the blush crawling up from his neck to his cheeks. He cleared his throat and set the gift down on the sofa next to him. "Thank you, my friend. I'm sure I'll be wearing it until it falls apart at the seams."</p><p>"Open mine next," said Daniel Marlowe, handing him a flat, square package that looked suspiciously like a record. "Leonard told me you don't have them yet."</p><p>"Ah." Sidney unwrapped the package and found two albums by Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. He grinned at Daniel. "Thank you. I've been meaning to try these artists out, but I haven't had the funds."</p><p>"Oh, great, more jazz," Mrs. C muttered darkly.</p><p>"I'm sure even you would like these, Mrs. C," said Daniel. "Sidney, give me the Ella Fitzgerald, so I can play it for us."</p><p>Sidney gladly handed him the album he requested and Daniel went to the record player to put it on. The first thing Sidney heard were the deep, melodious strains of a stand-up bass guitar for a few minutes then came a voice so pure that it brought tears to his eyes. Within two stanzas, the woman's vocal range drifted effortlessly from mezzo-soprano to contralto then back again. Her diction, timing, and intonation were perfect. He was so caught up in the music that it took him a moment to realize what the lyrics were saying:</p><p>
  <em>"I'd love to get you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>On a slow boat to China</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All to myself alone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Get you and keep you </em>
</p><p>
  <em>In my arms evermore</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Leave all your lovelies</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Weeping on a far away shore..."</em>
</p><p>For some reason, his mind drifted to thoughts of Lady Susan and it wasn't just the mention of China. He had a vision of them in a punt on the Cam with her sitting on the far end in her black veil and black bombazine gown and him on the other end with the long pole in his hand, steering them down the river. He blinked and the vision went away.</p><p>He almost jumped when he felt a hand on his arm.</p><p>"All right, Sidney?" asked Will with concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Let me get you a drink."</p><p>"Oh, don't you worry about him," said Mrs. C with a dismissive sniff. "That's the kind of effect jazz music has on him: like the devil himself got a hold of his soul."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Murder Comes to Oxbridge</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney returns to his alma mater and a grisly crime scene, lifted straight out of the second book in the murder mystery series. The victim is his old professor and mentor. He finds eerie similarities between this one and the previous one (as described by Geordie).</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story takes place in Series 4. Sidney never left Grantchester. He remains the vicar and continues to seek justice for the aggrieved</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney was finishing his breakfast of eggs, toast, and kippers that Mrs. C had cooked for him and Leonard early in the morning when Geordie came in to pick him up. Leonard had already left to visit his share of the elderly and infirm parishioners on the list that he and Sidney had previously prepared together. They divided it in half, so that everyone on the list would receive proper ministering and care.</p><p>Mrs. C frowned at Geordie as she almost bumped into him on his way into the kitchen. She surveyed him from head to toe and clicked her tongue as though she found him wanting. "If it's breakfast you're after, you're out of luck. I can offer you coffee or tea, but that's it, and you can do the fetching yourself."</p><p>The inspector smiled at her as though his tooth pained him. "Cathy fed me herself this morning, thank you all the same, Mrs. Chapman."</p><p>"I suppose you're here to drag this one off from his more important ministerial duties," she grumbled, jerking her thumb in Sidney's direction. "He'd promised to visit Mrs. Carmody's daughter this afternoon. The girl went to Inverness with her cousins on holiday four months ago and came back in the family way."</p><p>"Mrs. C," Sidney groaned from the kitchen table. "Will you not gossip about my parishioners, please?"</p><p>"Nonsense. We're just sharing information vital to the community at large," Geordie said. He turned back to Mrs. C. "Are you talking about Jack Carmody's daughter, Clothilde? She's only sixteen, if a day! Why, he watched over that girl like a hawk. I can't believe he allowed her to go galavanting off to Inverness where she was sure to get into trouble. The Scots are right rascals."</p><p>"And trouble she did find," the housekeeper agreed, underscoring her statement with a decisive nod.</p><p>"Geordie!" Sidney threw up his hands in disgust.</p><p>"You mark my words, Chambers." He pointed at Sidney. "Just wait till you have a daughter of your own."</p><p>Mrs. C sniffed in disapproval. "He'd have to get married first. The man needs a proper wife, I tell you. People are starting to talk."</p><p>Bewildered, Sidney demanded, "And who are these people, pray tell, and what are they saying?"</p><p>"That it isn't right for a man in his prime to remain a bachelor," the housekeeper said with an implied sneer in her tone. "Young and strapping you may be now, Sidney Chambers, but you're getting on in age, my lad. You won't have that full head of hair forever, either."</p><p>"I can always set you up with a girl, Chambers, just say the word," Geordie offered with a glint in his eye.</p><p>"It's a woman he needs, not a girl," groused the old woman. "And I won't have you setting him up again, Mr. Keating. That Margaret girl you foisted on him last time was a completely inappropriate match for a vicar."</p><p>Sidney resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As if he didn't get enough guff from his mother about finding a wife, he had to hear it from his housekeeper, too. Moreover, Margaret was still a sore subject for his friend. Best to change the subject and quickly. "So, Geordie, what did you and Cathy do to celebrate Valentine's Day last night?"</p><p>The inspector looked nonplussed for a moment before an expression of abject horror came over his face. "My God, no wonder Cathy and the girls were so cross with me yesterday. I completely forgot."</p><p>Sidney smiled in commiseration. "So did I, actually. This long, gloomy season is making it hard to differentiate one day from the next. I haven't seen the sun in weeks!"</p><p>Mrs. Chapman surveyed the pair of them and shook her head. "Drinking too much alcohol causes memory loss, you know. Pickles the brain, it does. Makes all the days blur together. Happened to my Ronnie. It got so bad that he plumb forgot he had a wife and married someone else."</p><p>When the two men only gaped at her, she nodded. "I've got my washing to do." She patted Geordie's arm on her way out of the kitchen. "He's also trying to tell you that you forgot his birthday yesterday." She added as she walked away, "Mr. Chambers, kindly put your dirty dishes in the sink before you go off adventuring, please."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am," Sidney muttered. "Eyes in the back of her head..."</p><p>Geordie appeared suitably chastened. He dragged his palm across the nape of his neck. "I'm sorry, mate. I'm a right bastard, I am. I'll buy all the drinks at the pub later. It's just that everything has been so tense at home lately with Esme suddenly acting up and Cathy braying at me for being so hard on the girl. Time passes by so quickly. When did my baby turn into a teenager?" He sighed heavily. "And we have another dead body. Found in the library of your old college, no less. A man this time."</p><p>"This happened at Corpus?" Sidney repeated, ignoring the chill that went down his spine. "Who was it?"</p><p>"Dr. Wilhelm Rutherford. Did you know him?"</p><p>Sidney's heart sank as he remembered the old man. Dr. Rutherford had rubbed most people the wrong way, but Sidney only saw his kindness, patience, and dedication to teaching. He eventually became friends with the old man. "Yes, he taught Ancient Languages. Greek, Hebrew, and Latin. Some Arabic to students who aim to join the foreign service someday." He swallowed, though he had some difficulty for his mouth was suddenly dry. "How did he die?"</p><p>"Not till you put away your dirty dishes." He dragged a hand through his hair, suddenly agitated. "Look here, I haven't been there. I asked the uniforms to hold the scene for us. Come on, we've got to hurry."</p><p>On the drive over, Sidney looked at the window and silently contemplated the Granchester landscape he knew and loved, almost made anonymous by thick, white snow. He could barely make anything out and it depressed him. He thought about the old professor and his stubborn insistence that Sidney was meant for something greater than clergy work.</p><p>Religion, the old man declared, was the opium of the masses. But he had a calling, Sidney argued, a true vocation, and so he went on to seminary after four years of reading Theology at Corpus. Dr. Rutherford had tried to persuade till the last minute to pursue a doctorate in philosophy, perhaps, and help educate the feeble minds of tomorrow, but Sidney had already made up his own mind. These days, he often found himself wondering if he ought to have taken a different path, after all.</p><p>"How did he die, Geordie?" he managed through a lump in his throat. He sensed that Geordie knew a lot more than he was telling him. Mr. Rutherford had been his mentor. He decided to keep this bit to himself for now as Geordie might think he'd be too emotionally invested and refuse his assistance this time.</p><p>"Suffocation," the inspector imparted grimly. He eased the car into parking spot closest to the Parker Library and turned to Sidney in his seat. "Some mad bastard shoved a towel down his esophagus..."</p><p>"What?" Sidney gaped. He exited the car, following Geordie. This couldn't be a coincidence. First, Lady Susan's maid who was murdered in a very similar fashion to a milkmaid in The Virgin Murders, down to the red ribbon around her wrist. Now, the professor was dead in the library with a towel down his throat, just like in the novel Murder Comes to Oxbridge, which was about a series of killings that targeted academics in a fictional university. The details were so uncanny that Sidney would swear the author attended either Cambridge or Oxford, but the book jacket clearly stated that S.L. Cooper had graduated from Stanford University in California.</p><p>They trudged through the half a football field-sized lawn, covered in snow, to get to the Parker library and every student they came across did their best to avoid Sidney's scrutinizing eye. He smirked to himself. He was in his priestly garb, after all. People  never knew what to say to a clergyman. They seemed to believe they had to be in their best behavior as though Sidney had a direct line to God and would immediately report them. In truth, he rarely heard from the Almighty anymore, no matter how hard he prayed these days. And he prayed a lot.</p><p>The porter who greeted them was a short, portly man in his sixties with graying hair that had mostly receded from a proud forehead. He studied Sidney closely for a moment, then exclaimed, "Oh, Master Chambers, I thought that was you. I'd heard tales you became a man of the cloth and blimey, here you are. Pardon me, your Worship. Any plans to scale the steeple once more?"</p><p>"It's good to see you, Mr. Rivers," replied Sidney, remembering the old man fondly. "No, my climbing days are over, I'm afraid." Apart from the time he and Geordie climbed it in order to prove a point in a case a few years ago, he added silently.</p><p>"Inspector Keating from the Cambridgeshire CID." Geordie flashed his badge. "I believe my men are already inside."</p><p>Mr. Rivers doffed his hat and the naturally jolly expression on his face disappeared. "A damn shame what happened to the Professor. To die like that, without dignity. He was always kind to me."</p><p>Geordie narrowed his eyes and gave the man a considering look. "I'll have to talk to you later, Mr. Rivers, after we view the body. Don't stray too far, all right?"</p><p>The porter casted a worried glance at Sidney, who reassured him with a nod. "I never leave my post, Inspector."</p><p>"Good man." Geordie patted him on the back.</p><p>Sidney had come across many grisly crime scenes during the four years he had been assisting Geordie on his cases, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his professor on the ground, his hands and ankles bound to a solid wood chair tipped over to its side, a bloody strip of cloth next to him that Sidney first thought was some kind of internal body part. The ground shifted under his feet and for a moment, he had to turn away or be in danger of throwing up. Suddenly, he wanted to run until he was outside again and hoover big gulps of air, so he could feel clean again.</p><p>"Who removed the towel from the professor's throat?" Geordie angrily demanded. "I thought it was supposed to be jammed in there."</p><p>Sidney's gut heaved at the idea. If it happened just like in the novel, the killer had tied the professor up, and forced a dry, starched towel down his esophagus until it reached his stomach. Once the towel was soaked in the old man's blood, the killer would have yanked it out, dragging bits of the professor's innards along with it. Without looking, he knew the professor's tongue would be lolling out of his mouth, unnaturally long and almost reaching his chest. He shuddered and attempted to banish the vision from his mind's eye, but failed.</p><p>"The killer removed it," Mr. Jarvis, the coroner, told Geordie in his matter-of-fact manner. "He used a dry, starched towel twisted so tightly that it would have looked like a very stiff rope. He jammed that down the professor's esophagus, choking him to death. Thankfully for him, he was already dead by the time the killer pulled out the towel, now soaked with the professor's blood, but he did it with such force that it prolapsed his esophagus, which is this proboscis-like organ you see hanging out of his mouth here. I'll have to wait to get to the lab, but I would say that the towel would also have stomach tissue on it. Do you smell that odor of bile? The towel most likely perforated the stomach."</p><p>"Do you have an approximate time of death?"</p><p>"The body is still in rigor, so I'd say less than twelve hours. The library closes at ten o'clock pm, Monday to Friday, and he was found this morning by the day librarian at six am. This man was tortured for hours and that couldn't have happened while the library was open... As you can see here, the contusion on the temple is beginning to turn purple. I'd say, for now, between midnight and three am. Body temperature suggests he's been dead about seven hours. I'll  have a more accurate timeline for you after I open him up."</p><p>Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sidney began to mutter a prayer in Hebrew to ask for strength and wisdom.</p><p>Geordie must have noticed that he wasn't looking at the body since he was suddenly at Sidney's side with an expression of concern on his face. "Hey mate, have you suddenly lost a taste for this? I know he was your old professor and all, so I'd understand if you'd want to recuse yourself from this one."</p><p>But Sidney had heard everything Mr. Jarvis said and suddenly, his breakfast wasn't settling so well. "Tell me, Geordie, is there a scarlet ribbon tied to his wrist or anywhere at all?"</p><p>Geordie frowned, but he returned to his team and barked, "Has anyone noticed a scarlet ribbon around the scene? Mind that you don't trample on the evidence while you search."</p><p>The coroner cleared his throat. "It's right here, Inspector."</p><p>Sidney sucked in air, though the cloyingly sweet smell of death filled the area, and slowly released it through his gritted teeth before turning around to face the violent scene once again. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to what he was really seeing because the blood spatter morbidly reminded him of a Jackson Pollock painting. On the top rung of the ladderback chair was a strip of scarlet ribbon tied in a neat bow. He steepled his fingers over his face, covering his nose and mouth as a wave of vertigo struck him once more.</p><p>Larry Peters, a detective constable eager to prove himself, was haunched over the body. He looked up and sneered at Sidney. "I always reckoned you were too soft for this beat, vicar."</p><p>"Shut up, Larry," snarled Geordie. "He fought in the war, you didn't. Mind your betters. Why don't you go back to the nick and see if you can be useful to someone else."</p><p>With a scowl, the detective constable rose and gave Geordie a mock salute. "Right you are, guv'nor." He made sure to bump past Sidney on his way out.</p><p>"All piss and vinegar, that one. I miss Phil," lamented Geordie. He gripped Sidney's arm to ensure he had the younger man's full attention. "How did you know about the red ribbon? How did you know it would be here? Are you a bloody clairvoyant now?"</p><p>Sidney shook him off. "No. I just suspected it would be, with this murder happening so closely to the other."</p><p>Geordie fixed him a scrutinizing stare that had been known to make criminals confess to their sins in the interrogation room. Sometimes, when Geordie had scant information on the suspect and had to go on a "fishing expedition," he remained quiet and merely stared at him until the poor bastard filled in the blanks himself. Once, a suspect told Sidney that he thought Geordie could see right through the marrow of his bones. Fortunately, his tricks never worked on Sidney, for he knew all of them.</p><p>"You know something," Geordie pronounced slyly.</p><p>Sidney shook his head. "I have a theory, but it's still percolating inside my head. I'm not ready to reveal it quite yet."</p><p>"Chambers, if you're withholding evidence, I can charge you with perverting the course of justice," Geordie threatened, clamping his fingers around Sidney's wrist like a manacle. "So help me God."</p><p>"You don't believe in God. Will you stop grabbing me, please?" Sidney wrested his wrist from his friend's grip. "Geordie, I don't have any evidence. It's just a theory, all right? I could be wrong."</p><p>"Inspector Keating, I'll meet you in my laboratory tomorrow morning for the post-mortem results," declared Mr. Jarvis from somewhere behind them. "Shall we say, ten o'clock?"</p><p>"That's fine, Jarvis, thank you," Geordie called over his shoulder as he followed Sidney out of the library.</p><p>"Let's talk to Mr. Rivers and see if he witnessed anything. If there's anyone who knows anything around here, it's usually the porter," suggested Sidney. He took a big gulp of fresh, albeit cold, air and exhaled gratefully. He spotted the old man chatting with a young man and woman wearing heavy coats and scarves that sported the colors of their college. He and Geordie hurried over.</p><p>"Ah, Master Chambers, Inspector," the porter greeted them once again. He frowned for a moment, then turned to Sidney, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not quite sure what to call you now. Is it Reverend or...?"</p><p>Sidney inclined his head. "My official title is Canon. You may refer to me as Canon Chambers or Mr. Chambers. Even Sidney, if you like."</p><p>"Oh, sir, I could never," the old man sputtered. "No, Canon Chambers. Even when you was just a student here, there was something about you that exalted you above the others. You was just plain better than all of them. They had a special name for you, you know." His gaze dropped to the ground, as though he inadvertently let slip something that he shouldn't have.</p><p>Geordie raised his eyebrows at Sidney. "You're right, porters are the eyes and ears of every college." He tapped the old man's arm. "What did they call Canon Chambers, Mr. Rivers?"</p><p>Sidney cringed inwardly, feeling the tips of his ears warm up. He had loathed the nickname with a passion. The old man peered at him, looking apologetic. Sidney heaved a sigh. To save the porter embarrassment, he confessed it himself. "It was really dumb and not very creative. They called me Onward Christian Chambers, all right? Sometimes, Jesus Christ Chambers or just Christ Chambers, for short."</p><p>He could tell that Geordie was trying very hard to not laugh in his face. "Wait a minute, I thought you were a bit of a daredevil. Didn't you scale that steeple while you were a student and almost got sent down for it?"</p><p>"Yes, but I had a different reputation with the students. It was the administrators who had a problem with me." He lifted one eyebrow. "I tend to buck against authority, you know."</p><p>"I know," Geordie murmured dryly. </p><p>"I'm sorry, sir," said the porter miserably, removing his hat.</p><p>Sidney waved it off. "Mr. Rivers, it's such a small thing. Don't even worry about it for a second. I took no offense at all."</p><p>"Our saintly priest has a proper sense of humor, Mr. Rivers," Geordie informed the porter with a wink. He plucked his ever present notebook from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. "What do you know about what happened to the professor? Does he have any enemies, anything like that?"</p><p>"Oh, I don't know that I should be talking about the professor, sir." The porter scratched his neck, which was turning bright red. "The provost don't really like us gossiping and such." </p><p>"Well, it wouldn't be gossiping, Mr. Rivers. You're just relaying facts to an officer of the law," clarified the inspector. "That's you doing your civic duty, sir."</p><p>Sidney assented with a nod when the old man looked to him for confirmation. It was clear that Mr. Rivers trusted him and expected him to be his ally. Sidney hoped he wouldn't fail him. </p><p>"The professor didn't have many friends," Mr. Rivers said, looking at the ground. "He had a reputation for being a right bastard, but he was always all right with me. Gave me five pounds every Christmas, he did. But three days ago, he had some words with the classics professor, Dr. Kershaw. I overheard them, I did. Something about a manuscript that Dr. Kershaw had mistranslated and getting ready to publish. Aye, they had some fierce words to each other. Almost came to blows, they did. A few students witnessed it." </p><p>"What is this other professor's full name?" Geordie got ready to jot the information down.</p><p>Mr. Rivers looked thoughtful for a moment. "Samuel Kershaw, I believe. He's over at Leckhampton. That's where his offices are."</p><p>"Anything else you'd like to tell us, Mr. Rivers? Did you notice anything strange, something out of place? What time do you get off duty?"</p><p>"No, sir, not really. You'll want to talk to the night porter, Mr. Stubbins. He takes over for me at four pm. He'll be the one you'll want to talk to, for sure."</p><p>Geordie flipped his notebook closed and returned to the inside pocket of his great coat. "Thank you for all your help, Mr. Rivers. You've been grand." He stuck out a hand for the old man to shake. </p><p>The porter looked surprised by the gesture, but took Geordie's hand. "You're welcome, Inspector. If there's anything else I can help you with, please don't hesitate to come to me."</p><p>Sidney also shook the old man's man and Mr. Rivers looked even more surprised, even touched. Jesus, he thought with disgust. Did people still walk around Cambridge, refusing to see the people they deemed beneath them?</p><p>"God," Geordie exhaled with frustration. "I hope you're bloody wrong, Chambers, and the same bloke isn't responsible for both murders. The victims have absolutely nothing in common. One is a young girl from a poor family and the other an old man, a Cambridge don. One was murdered in a dairy farm, the other in a university library almost fifty miles away. I don't see a connection at all, save for that bloody red ribbon." He stopped walking so suddenly that Sidney almost crashed into him. "You don't think Lady Susan has anything to do with it?"</p><p>Sidney blustered, though he would have liked the excuse to go back to the manor and talk to the mysterious lady again. "No way. She's got a limp, Geordie. She's barely strong enough to lift a teacup, let alone have the stamina to commit the violence we saw here today."</p><p>Geordie faced him in challenge, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "Well, what about that behemoth butler of hers? He could have done it at her say-so."</p><p>Sidney felt himself grow unaccountably angry, though he couldn't fathom the reason for it. "But why? Why on earth would she order such a thing?"</p><p>"I don't know. Bloody foreigners," his friend muttered, resuming his stride back to the car. "Just throwing ideas around."</p><p>"Well, think of another one!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. A Mother Grieves</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney and Geordie go to meet the mother of Judith Myers, the first victim. Sidney is compelled to help her and her family past solving the case of her daughter's murder. Geordie warns Sidney that he tends to take on too much.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Sidney of Series 4. He never left Grantchester. He fell in love with Violet, but decided to stay in England to remain a vicar.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next person they visited was Elsie Myers, the mother of Judith, the murdered girl. The small cottage was located at the outskirts of Grantchester, at the mouth of the wood. The thatched roof sloped under the weight of the snow and Sidney had doubts it would last the few more weeks of winter. He tried to remember if he knew any roofers, but came up empty. He had a rudimentary knowledge of fixing thatched roofs, however. He had stayed in North Africa to help some villagers, whose cottages were destroyed in the war, fortify their homes again before he returned to England. Perhaps he could get Will and Leonard to help him do something about Mrs. Myers's roof sometime soon before it collapsed on her family's heads. It was the least he could do for a woman who had just lost her daughter.</p>
<p>"I don't like the way you're checking out that roof, Sidney," Geordie said, breaking into his reverie. He studied the younger man from behind the door of the car. "I can practically see you adding this task to your mile-long list of good deeds."</p>
<p>"Geordie, look at it!" Sidney implored, gesturing toward the cottage with his arm. "This thing is a death trap. That roof is maybe days from giving up the ghost and crushing the people underneath it."</p>
<p>"Worry about that later, Chambers. We have more pressing matters to attend to at the moment."  Geordie slammed the car door shut and strode toward the cottage with Sidney following closely behind him. At the door, he stopped and rapped his knuckles on the solid oak, once painted red, but now peeling and bleached from the sun. No one answered for a few moments, so he knocked again, more officiously this time.</p>
<p>At long last, the door opened a little and on the other side, Sidney could see a small, middle-aged woman wrapped up in blankets, even in the dim light. "Wot do ye want?" she demanded hoarsely. Her inquiry was followed by a wet, hacking cough that seem to rattle her petite frame.</p>
<p>"It's Geordie Keating, Elsie. Let us in. Official police business." He pulled out his badge and showed her. The door creaked all the way open and they were both able to go in. Inside the house, it was dark and cold, with a distinct smell of dampness. "You haven't got the fire on. Aren't you freezing in here?"</p>
<p>Sidney surveyed the woman, who was covered from head to ankles in blankets. She reminded him a Bedouin woman trekking across a desert. "Is your fireplace not functional, Mrs. Meyers?"</p>
<p>The woman glared defiantly at both of them. "I light it up, I'm more likely to choke to death in black smoke than warm mesself up. It hasn't worked in months. That's why I sent me young'uns to my sister, so they don't turn into ice lollies."</p>
<p>Sidney approached the old hearthstone and poked his head into the fireplace, angling his head up. After a couple of minutes, he pulled his head back out and straightened. "You probably have a clogged flue or two up there, Mrs. Meyers. A  good chimney sweep ought to clear them right up."</p>
<p>Mrs. Meyers snorted disdainfully. "I barely got two shillins to rub together, much less afford a chimney sweep. Look around ye. Does it look like I can pay a chimney sweep?"</p>
<p>"Sidney, you've got something on your--" Geordie made a wiping gesture on his own cheek.</p>
<p>Sidney pulled out a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and swiped it across his left side of his face, opposite of Geordie's movements. "Did I get it?"</p>
<p>"No," groused Mrs. Meyers, grabbing it from him. "Bend yer knees. Yer too damn tall. Like a damn tree, ye are." She spat on the fabric and rubbed roughly at Sidney's right temple, then across his cheekbone, just under his eye. "Yer a bit of busybody, aren't ye, Father?" She gave him back his handkerchief. "Who are ye and wot are ye doing wif him?" She jerked a thumb toward Geordie.</p>
<p>"My name is Sidney Chambers, ma'am, and I'm the vicar of Grantchester. Sometimes I accompany the inspector on some of his cases." Sidney shoved the handkerchief back into his trousers and tried to ignore the sour smell of the woman's saliva on his skin. It was nothing. It would fade in a few minutes. She was being kind. He and Geordie sat on a wooden bench that had a back rest and seat cushions. It was where Mrs. Meyers indicated they should sit. The two of them decided to keep their outer garments on, since it was as cold inside as it was outside.</p>
<p>Once he and Geordie were settled, the woman peered at their faces. "Should I put the kettle on? Would ye be wanting some tea?"</p>
<p>Sidney would have refused as it was obvious without looking into the woman's pantry that she had meagre supplies, but Geordie had answered for the both of them before he could say anything. He elbowed his friend once Mrs. Meyers was out of earshot. "Geordie, the woman has nothing. Most likely, she's been going without tea herself because it's expensive. Did you see how gaunt her face looks? Maybe she hasn't eaten in days."</p>
<p>"You're making a lot of assumptions, Chambers," Geordie admonished, clucking his tongue. "Who do you think you are, Sherlock Holmes?"</p>
<p>"She's got candles on the mantle of her fireplace, which means she doesn't have electricity," Sidney pointed out. "She can't afford the five shillings to pay for a chimney sweep, so she's going without heat. Because the children aren't here, she's probably skipping meals to save money. For God's sake, Geordie, she's wrapped up like a mummy in order to keep warm." He stopped as a thought occured to him. "Wait a minute, I thought you said she works at the department store with Cathy."</p>
<p>"Her daughter died last week, Sidney, so she probably doesn't feel like going to work and that means she doesn't have any income coming in. Her daughter, <em>the one who died</em>," Geordie emphasized, "was probably bringing in some money, too, but now that she's gone, that source has dried up. This woman had four kids to raise on her own, mate."</p>
<p>Sidney nodded and turned his head away, biting his lower lip. What did he know about truly going without? He made eleven pounds a week for his work as vicar and his only output were cigarettes, whisky, and the occasional jazz record that struck his fancy. He was born in a middle-class family with his father a doctor and his mother a school teacher. He attended a boarding school from the time he was eleven, went off to war when he was eighteen, and resumed his education after coming home. Sure, money had been tight at times--there was one summer when he couldn't even afford to buy a pair of shoes that had a hole in the sole and Amanda bought him a pair because she felt sorry for him--but he had never truly experienced poverty. His stomach clenched in distress as shame came over him.</p>
<p>"Here ye are, gentlemen." The saucers and cups clinked together as the woman approached them with a tray upheld by shaking hands.</p>
<p>Sidney immediately stood up and took the tray from her. "Here, let me." He noticed that her threadbare gloves had big enough holes in them so that some of her fingers poked through. "Have a seat, please, Mrs. Meyers and I'll bring the tea to us." He placed the tray on the scratched up coffee table as the woman sat on the wicker chair adjacent to the bench that Geordie occupied.</p>
<p>"I don't have biscuits or nuffin," she said apologetically. "Come to that, I don't have sugar or milk, either. Let it brew a bit. I ain't got much tea leaves left, so it'll be a mite weak."</p>
<p>Sidney met Geordie's eyes for a moment and the inspector gave him a warning glare. Sidney sighed to himself. Sometimes he really hated it when he was right. "Is there anything we can do to assist you at this time, Mrs. Meyers?" he inquired, returning to his seat at Geordie's side.</p>
<p>"Assist me?" the woman repeated in confusion, her hand going up to her chest to indicate herself. "Well, aye. Ye can find the bastard wot killed me Judith."</p>
<p>"Yes, ma'am, Inspector Keating is working on that," Sidney confirmed. "What I'm talking about are funeral arrangements for your daughter. We'll probably have to wait till the ground thaws out for the interment, but we can at least do a small memorial service for her in the meantime, if you like. Have you made any arrangements at all?"</p>
<p>"No, the police haven't released the body." Mrs. Meyers choked on the final word and she began to sob into her hands. "It's probably best that they keep her fer a while because they must have her in an ice box of some kind, right? Until we can bury her in the spring."</p>
<p>Sidney nudged his friend and with the proper prompting, Geordie plucked his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to the woman. "We'll do everything we can to catch your daughter's killer, Elsie."</p>
<p>"Do you have a regular church you attend, ma'am?" asked Sidney. "I can fully assist you in this process. I can even speak to your pastor, if you want me to, and arrange it for you."</p>
<p>"Bless you, son." She blew her nose into the handkerchief and tried to give it back to Geordie, who told her graciously that she could keep it. "We're not very Godly folk, I fear. Never been much for church-going. Always made me feel like I did something bad and I'm 'bout to be punished."</p>
<p>"I think that's kind of the point," Sidney replied with a smile to show that he was joking. "I'd be honored to conduct the memorial service, if you wish. In the spring, I'll perform the interment rites as well."</p>
<p>"You're a kind man, Father." She was clutching Geordie's handkerchief as though it were some kind of lifeline. "How much will all of this cost? I got a few pounds put away, but I was saving it fer fixing the roof come spring, though I don't know that it will make it to spring."</p>
<p>Normally, the memorial and interment services cost a total of four pounds, but Sidney thought he should pay it out of his own pocket this time. Mrs. C hated it when he performed services for free because the church would also have to take care of the flowers, paying the organist, and providing refreshments for the bereaved who, more often than not, congregated at the vicarage after the interment until Mrs. C would have to make noises about Sidney and Leonard having to go to bed early, so everyone should really be going home. "No charge, Mrs. Meyers."</p>
<p>The woman casted a grateful, watery glance at him, though doubt lingered in her gaze. "Are you sure, Father? I don't want to be putting ye out none."</p>
<p>Sidney didn't correct her address of him, even though it made him a bit uncomfortable. Some Anglican priests, in fact, preferred that address, but he didn't. He didn't see his congregation as his children. They looked to him for ministerial guidance, yes, but the thought of people thinking of him as some sort of exalted figure just didn't sit well with him. He was a shepherd to a flock, nothing more. "It'll be all taken care of, Mrs. Meyers. We can do the memorial service this weekend, if you like. I'll just arrange it with my secretary, shall I?"</p>
<p>Geordie gave him a look and raised one eyebrow. Sidney ignored him.</p>
<p>"Oh, Father, ye truly can't know how much I 'preciate this. I've been rackin' me brains, tryin' to come up wif a way to get the roof fixed and me daughter buried." She dropped her gaze, a humbled woman, and busied herself with pouring the tea into three tin cups. "Me husband, he died six years ago in a bad accident. He was a train engineer and made good money, too. After that, it was just one tragedy after the other. Otis, m'eldest boy barely survived a bout of whooping cough last year. Me and Judy, we thought he was going to die fer sure." She wept bitterly into the handkerchief. "Oh, me poor Judy. How could anyone savage her like that? And with a babe in her belly, too."</p>
<p>"So you knew about the baby," Geordie prodded, seeing an opening. "Did you know who the father was?"</p>
<p>"'Course I knew! Me girl was no tart." Mrs. Meyers stiffened in her chair,  offended on behalf of her daughter. "Judy told me everything. It was that no good farm secretary Nicholas Peterson. He told her he managed the entire Crevecœur estate for Lord Remington, but he were nothing but an assistant. I fink he's the one wot did it. She told him about the babe and he killed her fer it before disappearing himself off to Ireland."</p>
<p>Geordie was watching the woman closely. "How do you know Mr. Peterson went to Ireland? Crevecœur is all the way out in Oxford, Elsie. How did he even meet your Judy?"</p>
<p>Mrs. Myers narrowed her eyes and began to view Geordie with suspicion. This copper was not going to cast aspersions on her dearly departed daughter. "Me daughter was a good girl, Geordie Keating. Last year, she went out to Oxford to help out at me cousin's shop,  wot sells second-hand women's clothes. Me cousin's daughter went to a fete out in Crevecœur and brought me Judy wif her. That's where she met that scoundrel. Me cousin was paying her good wages, but I made her come home when her sister Emma became ill with influenza, so she could help me out wif the young'uns. I found out much later that the bastard was coming down from Oxford twice a month and they was meetin' each other in a hotel in Cambridge."</p>
<p>"What did you do after you found out about the affair?" Sidney queried softly.</p>
<p>Mrs. Meyers angrily swiped at her eyes with the handkerchief she still clutched in her hand. "What could I do? She was a woman grown. I saw them on High Street together, coming out of a hotel and I hid behind a clothes rack being displayed on the sidewalk. I couldn't really talk to her until she got home. I told her I saw them and the girl just broke down, begged me forgiveness. She said Nicholas Peterson promised to marry her, so she wasn't no trollop."</p>
<p>The bereaved mother was starting to get agitated, so Sidney knew he had to tread carefully. "Do you think that changed after she told him about the baby?"</p>
<p>"Oh, aye," Mrs. Meyers answered through gritted teeth, her eyes narrowing into slits. "She told him and he called her a stupid, lying slag and said he was engaged to someone else already. Accused her of opening her legs to other men. Me Judy was no whore. That Nicholas Peterson was the first and last bastard she was ever wif. I'd kill 'im if he was in front me, don't care if I hang fer it."</p>
<p>Sidney whistled under his breath. He had to admit, the boyfriend Nicholas Peterson was starting to look really good for this one. In the four years he'd been helping out Geordie, he'd learned that if a woman were killed, the most likely suspect was always the boyfriend or the husband. The information Geordie had before, he had derived from the girls at the beauty salon where Judith Myers worked previously before leaving there to take a job with Lady Susan. The mother's story matched what the girls had related to Geordie. The inspector hadn't been able to interview Elsie Myers last week because it took them a few days to identify the body and after Elsie was told that her daughter was deceased, she'd gone into catatonic shock for two days. No one could get anything out of her.</p>
<p>But if Peterson were the murderer, where did that leave the professor? Maybe this was a separate murder, after all. Perhaps the killer had found out about the girl in the well, realized its similarities to the book <em>The Virgin Murders</em>, then got the idea to set up Dr. Rutherford's murder to resemble a kill scene from <em>Murder Comes to Oxbridge</em>, so it would look like the two were connected. But why? What kind of psychopathic mind could think up of something like that? Of course, he himself was able to make the connection right away, but that was only because he had just recently finished six of S.L. Cooper's books and the stories were still fresh in his mind.</p>
<p>Was he trying too hard to make these two murders connect? If it hadn't been for the red ribbon, they wouldn't have anything in common at all. Moreover, it was only in the novel <em>The Virgin Murders</em> that the red ribbon was featured, tied around the left wrist of every maiden killed, totaling six. Yes, now that he thought about it, while the color red was a prominent theme in all of the nine novels he'd already read, the red ribbon was only in the one novel. Why was he so sure that he would find the red ribbon at the professor's crime scene?</p>
<p>"Father Sidney." Geordie shook him vigorously. "Apologies, Elsie, he gets this way sometimes. It's that big brain of his. Graduated from Cambridge, you know."</p>
<p>Sidney snapped out of it and smiled to reassure Mrs. Myers, who was looking worried. He picked up his cup of tea, which was still a little hot, so he blew across the surface, and took a sip. The tea was so weak that it barely colored the hot water. He set it back down on the table. "Pardon me, ma'am. I was just trying to remember if I have anything scheduled this weekend that I can set aside to make room for your daughter's memorial." The ninth commandment got easier and easier to break these days, he added silently.</p>
<p>"Fank ye again, Father, yer a good man," Mrs. Meyers said. She turned to Geordie and grasped his arm. "And fank ye, Geordie Keating, fer bringing the vicar wif ye. I remember me girl used to sit wif yer young'uns when ye had to werk late and yer Cathy needed a hand. Ye were very kind to me girl. Fank ye."</p>
<p>Geordie covered the woman's gloved hands with his own and looked into her eyes. "Our Judy was a great girl, Elsie. I promise you, I'm going to get the bastard who did this to her and string him up myself when the time comes. I give you my solemn vow."</p>
<p>Mrs. Meyers nodded, her tears spilling down her cheeks. "I can't believe me Judy is gone. She was a great help to me, my light. How am I going to take care of three children on my own?"</p>
<p>Sidney's heart broke for the woman's plight. He was compelled to do something more for her. "Your son, Otis, how old is he?</p>
<p>"Just turned sixteen last month, he did." Mrs. Myers blew her nose into Geordie's handkerchief. "Why are ye asking?"</p>
<p>Sidney joined his fingers together and put both hands on his lap. Leonard called it his most ministerial pose because he said it made Sidney look like he was about to pray. "If you won't mind, perhaps I can inquire around to see if anyone is seeking an apprentice or just needs an extra hand this coming spring?"</p>
<p>The bereaved mother's eyes lit up and she clasped her own hands together at her bosom. "Oh, that would be a great boon, indeed, Father. Me Otis himself has told me he ought to be looking fer werk himself, to help support us all."</p>
<p>"I'll see what I can do, ma'am," Sidney assured her. "I'll come by later in the week, if I may, to tell you what I've found for Otis and to confirm the arrangements for the memorial service this weekend."</p>
<p>"Fank ye," the woman gushed again. She looked anxiously at the teacups. "How was the tea,  Father? Was it terrible?"</p>
<p>"Oh no, it's totally fine." To prove it, Sidney drained the cup to its dregs and it wasn't a difficult task, since it was basically luke-warm water at that point. He set down the empty cup on the table, then kicked Geordie's shoe to prod him to do the same. When his friend only looked at him blankly, Sidney gestured to Geordie's untouched cup with his eyebrows.</p>
<p>Geordie scowled, but picked up his own cup and drank until it was empty, setting it down as soon as he was finished. "Not bad," he told Mrs. Meyers. "Warms the bones, it does."</p>
<p>Later, when they were back in the car, Geordie turned to him and blurted out, "<em>Father</em> Sidney?"</p>
<p>Sidney sank deep into his scarf and pulled his hat low over his face. He felt tired and achy suddenly. "I <em>am</em> an Anglican priest, Geordie, and some of us prefer to be called <em>Father</em>. I'm just not one of them." He heaved a sigh. "Where to next?"</p>
<p>"I'm going to see that Professor Kershaw at Leckhampton. <em>You</em> have an appointment with the pregnant Clothilde Carmody, <em>Father</em> Sidney."</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Sidney Visits a Troubled Parishioner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney visits the home of Clothilde Carmody, a teenage girl in his parish who is unmarried and pregnant. As Sidney interviews Clothilde and her parents, he realizes that there's a lot more to the girl's story than her parents had led him to believe.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Sidney Chambers of Series 4. He never left Grantchester. He is no longer with Violet nor Amanda. He stayed and remained a vicar. </p>
<p>Content warning: descriptions of sexual assault and violence</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geordie dropped off Sidney at the Carmodys' house and promised to call him later to apprise him of his interview with Professor Kershaw. Sidney stayed outside the snow-covered bungalow for a moment and reached inside his anorak for his cigarettes. He stuck one between his lips, cupped his hand over the light, and drew the smoke deep into his lungs before exhaling through his nose. The cold seeped straight past his boots and thick wool socks so that he could feel it in his marrow. He stomped his feet to keep them from freezing.</p>
<p>He should really knock on the door and get inside, maybe drink something warm. He had a bit of a head and his back and shoulders ached. It must be the stress from today, he thought. Besides, he wasn't quite ready to play the saintly priest just yet. He had such ugly things on his mind that he didn't think it would be possible to impart grace and wisdom with only love and sincerity in his heart.</p>
<p>He was furious. At this unknown killer who coldly took away the lives of Judith Myers and her unborn child. At this inhuman sadist who tortured Dr. Rutherford for God knows how long. And for what? Sidney couldn't fathom the senselessness of it.</p>
<p>The door behind him creaked open and Sidney turned around to see a middle-aged man with a gray mustache and glasses, peering at him through the crack in the door. "Reverend Chambers! I thought that was you! Come on in!"</p>
<p>Sidney took another long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it and putting it in his pocket. He approached the door and reached to shake the hand of Jack Carmody, the pregnant Clothilde's father. The man allowed him inside and shut the door quickly. Sidney took off his anorak, scarf, gloves, and hat, which Mr. Carmody helped him hang up on a coat rack.</p>
<p>He surveyed the framed pictures on the wall, pleasant landscapes and seascapes. Underneath was a table filled with framed photos of family members and a solo picture of a pretty, wide-eyed girl he recognized as Clothilde. He'd noticed her before during services, sitting to the side with a group of girls her age, giggling and whispering to each other. After each service, he would stand just outside the chapel and chat with his parishioners as they exited the church. In the corner of his eye, he would see her and her girlfriends, pushing at each other and daring one another to go up and talk to him.</p>
<p>"They're very silly girls, Sidney Chambers," Mrs. C would mutter next to him. "Don't you go talking to any of them or you'll be in trouble before you can snap your fingers. Young girls are so precocious these days."</p>
<p>"I'm old enough to be the father of some of them," Sidney had said from the side of his mouth, even as he shook a parishioner's hand.</p>
<p>"You're a fairly young, strapping fellow and a figure of authority," Mrs. C had told him later as she flattened dough with a rolling pin. "To teenage girls in a small village, you're Prince Charming."</p>
<p>Mr. Carmody led him to a sitting room that had a small wood-burning furnace in the corner, two sofas perpendicular to each other, a coffee table in the middle, and a plump armchair that Sidney guessed belonged to Mr. Carmody because it had a lived-in look to it. On the sofa farthest from him sat Mrs. Carmody, a slender woman with tight, close-cropped brown curls and black horn-rimmed glasses. She was dressed in a shapeless dark blue smock that looked like a pillow case on her thin frame.</p>
<p>By contrast, her sixteen-year-old daughter Clothilde sat next to her with her strawberry-blonde hair brushed to high shine pulled back into a long braid, which hung over one shoulder. She wore a white collared, buttoned-down shirt with capped sleeves under a bright purple corduroy pinafore with two large square pockets at the waist. She also had on white stockings. Her head was bent modestly and her hands folded on her lap. Sidney thought she rather looked like a proper schoolgirl.</p>
<p>Sidney sat on the unoccupied sofa, while Mr. Carmody took the armchair. Mrs. Carmody indicated the tea service on the table.</p>
<p>"Would you like some tea, vicar?" she asked primly. "It's still hot. And you should try these butter biscuits. They're truly from Denmark."</p>
<p>Sidney accepted the teacup on the saucer, which was accompanied by two biscuits. He briefly wondered how much tea he drank on a regular day when he was out visiting parishioners.</p>
<p>"I think the vicar would prefer a stiffer drink, Esther. I know I would. How about a sherry, Mr. Chambers?" Jack Carmody offered as he got up to walk over to the drinks table behind Sidney.</p>
<p>"I'll have a whisky, straight, if you have it."</p>
<p>The man of the house looked at him in surprise. "I thought all vicars drank sherry."</p>
<p>Sidney smiled as he took the glass proffered to him. "Not this one, I'm afraid."</p>
<p>"A man after my own heart." Mr. Carmody slapped him on the back as he returned to his own seat with his own glass of whisky. "Call me Jack."</p>
<p>Sidney took a sip of his drink. Jameson's. Irish. Whisky with an e. He shrugged. It was better than sherry. He set his glass down next to the teacup. He'd still have to drink that tea, just to be polite, and eat the biscuits. He settled into the sofa, crossed his leg over the other, and put on his best "listening" face. "Mrs. Carmody, you've invited me here. What can I do to help you and your daughter?"</p>
<p>Mrs. Esther Carmody slid her daughter a side-long glance before turning to Sidney with an aggrieved expression. "We are out of options, vicar. We raised our daughter to be a good Christian girl, to live in the path of Jesus. We've made clear to her the importance of preserving her purity for the man she will marry someday. But now..." She gestures helplessly. "That's gone."</p>
<p>"Mum!" the girl cried in horror. She raised her head, her eyes bright with tears and her face the color of plums. "How could you?"</p>
<p>"Quit your blubbering, girl," Jack barked from his armchair. "The horse is out of the barn. There's no need to play the maiden now!"</p>
<p>Sidney picked up his drink and gulped down more of his whiskey. As he set down the glass, he noticed Mrs. Carmody studying him with one perfectly tweezed eyebrow raised high. He smiled briefly at her and she looked away. "Mrs. Carmody, if you'd allow it, I would like you to switch places with Clothilde, so that I may speak directly to her. Would that be all right?"</p>
<p>Clothilde gaped at him, her cheeks and neck suffused with pink. She sought her mother's permission by trying to catch her eye, but the woman was staring at a painting on the wall as if she'd never seen it before, deliberately ignoring her daughter. "Mum?" Clothilde prodded her.</p>
<p>Mrs. Carmody heaved a sigh, and as though she were heavily put upon, switched places with her daughter with a lot of grumbling. Once they were seated in the spots Sidney requested, Clothilde returned to her demure pose and her mother folded her arms tightly across her chest in a defensive manner and scowled at Sidney. She seemed suspicious of him now.</p>
<p>Sidney unclasped and clasped his hands, desperately wishing he could smoke a cigarette. Maybe the man of the house smoked and if he lit up, Sidney could ask if he could light up, too. But he couldn't find an ashtray in the immediate vicinity. He'd have to wait until the meeting is over, he supposed.</p>
<p>"Will you tell me what happened, Clothilde?" he asked the young woman softly.</p>
<p>"She was on her own for the first time in her life and gave it away to the first scoundrel who paid her any attention," Mrs. Carmody seethed, yanking at her daughter's braid, which made the girl cry out. "And now she's damaged goods."</p>
<p>As the woman still had Clothilde's braid in her grip, Sidney instantly jumped to his feet, ready to bodily interfere if necessary. "Please, Madame, there is no need to harm your daughter, I beg you. Madame, please, compose yourself."</p>
<p>To his relief, the horrid woman released Clothilde's hair and scooted to the far side of the sofa as though she was suddenly afraid that her daughter had a disease she might catch. Left alone, the girl succumbed to her tears and sobbed into her hands.</p>
<p>Sidney dug into the inner pocket of his blazer and pulled out his backup handkerchief, which he offered to the young girl. It occurred to him that he often lost his handkerchiefs this way and Mrs. C often informed him that such an item did not, in fact, grow on trees. Clothilde blew her nose on said handkerchief and when she tried to give it back, Sidney graciously said that she could keep it. The look of adoration she bestowed upon him made him deuced uncomfortable.</p>
<p>"Clothilde," he prompted gently. "Tell me what happened, please."</p>
<p>The girl glanced furtively at both of her parents. "Not with them here, vicar. It's personal," she whispered the last part.</p>
<p>Sidney sighed. He studied Mr. and Mrs. Carmody's faces; his impassive and hers pinched. He doubted they would leave their daughter alone with any unmarried man under the age of sixty ever again. The one time they let her out of their sight, she came back compromised.</p>
<p>He stood up and Jack Carmody rose along with him. "Sir, will you step into the hallway with me for a moment for a quick chat?"</p>
<p>The man frowned, but followed him to the narrow hallway by the front door. "What's this about, vicar?"</p>
<p>"I need to talk to her alone, Jack. I think there's more to the story than what you and your wife know. I don't think she'll reveal anything to me with the two of you in the same room."</p>
<p>Jack scoffed. "It's shame she's feeling. She's dishonored her family and thrown away her purity under the watchful eye of God."</p>
<p>Sidney cleared his throat. He couldn't claim to have clean hands on this one. He was guilty of this particular mortal sin: sex before marriage. "There is shame, sir, but I think it might be something else, too. I would like to find out what it is, if you would allow me."</p>
<p>Jack didn't look all the way convinced, but fatherly concern must have overridden his skepticism because he nodded and clapped Sidney's shoulder. "All right, mate. Let's do it your way."</p>
<p>The missus would not budge. "No. Absolutely not. I've seen the way this girl and her friends react to you, vicar. The way they carry on like deranged peahens after service, trying to get your attention. I'm just trying to protect your reputation, vicar. This girl has proved herself to be a lying harlot."</p>
<p>Sidney almost laughed at the irony of the situation. During college, he was considered "wild" by the administrators. The previous archdeacon did everything to get him kicked out of his position because he wouldn't toe the line. He almost left the church because he wanted to marry a divorced woman. "I believe I can handle myself, Mrs. Carmody."</p>
<p>"What does she want to tell you that she can't tell us, her parents?"</p>
<p>Sidney realized immediately that he had to be diplomatic about this and needed to choose his next words carefully. "There are some things people would tell their priest that they would never reveal to anyone else."</p>
<p>Mrs. Carmody stared him down, as him by doing so, she could taste the honesty in his words. What seemed like minutes ticked by, but finally she nodded. She pushed past Sidney to see her daughter. "You mind your manners, girl. None of your brazenness now." To Sidney, she said, "We'll be in the next room, vicar, where we'll hear any sort of misbehavior or commotion."</p>
<p>Jack put his hands on his wife's skinny shoulders and had to forcibly drag her away from the drawing room. Once the couple was out of sight, Sidney refilled his drink and returned to his seat. Clothilde had remained where she was the whole time, still sobbing into his handkerchief. Sidney rose again and poked his head out of the drawing room to ask for some water. Once he received it from a sheepish-looking maid, he gave it to Clothilde, who looked at it as if she didn't know what to do with it.</p>
<p>Sidney sighed. "Drink it. You've been crying so much, you probably have the hiccups now. Go on, be a good girl and do as I say."</p>
<p>The girl looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear, but she obeyed him and drank the water so fast, some of it spilled down her shirt and she almost choked on it.</p>
<p>Sidney's darkest suspicions were confirmed. He put a hand on Clothilde's shoulder. "All right, that's enough. It's okay to stop, Clothilde, you're safe."</p>
<p>The girl seemed to snap out of it and handed him the glass, her hand shaking. She used his handkerchief to wipe her mouth and dab at the wet spot on her pinafore. She looked stricken. "I'm so sorry, vicar, you must think me so stupid..."</p>
<p>She seemed to be about to break into sobs again. Sidney sat down, so he wouldn't look so imposing and reached out to briefly pat her arm. He tried not get too tactile with his female congregants, so that there would never be any hint of impropriety in regards to his behavior with women and girls.</p>
<p>He joined his hands together, put them on his lap, and leaned in. "There's more to the story, isn't there?"</p>
<p>Clothilde turned furiously red, from neck to ears to scalp. Though her lower lip trembled, she didn't seem to be in danger of bursting into hysterical tears. "I went up to the music festival in Inverness with me cousins, that's true, but I wasn't swayed by no Scottish lad. It was Amelia, me cousin, who had a lad up there she had met in a previous festival."</p>
<p>Sidney nodded, but did not say anything to allow Clothilde to tell her story.</p>
<p>"I lost her almost immediately, but I had me three other cousins, Peter and Bobby, who are good lads, and Lillian, their little sister. The four of us, we enjoyed the festival for a while, drinking shandy and eating toffee apples, just listening to all kinds of music. It was quite a lark. But Lillian, who is only fourteen, began to get tired and wanted to get back to their aunt's house."</p>
<p>Sidney noticed that the girl had begun to twist his handkerchief into a tight coil. She was arriving at the difficult part of her story.</p>
<p>"I didn't want to go back yet, because I was having so much fun, but it wouldn't be right for me to stay out with the lads, even if they were me cousins. Lillian said she knew the way back and I said I'd go with her, so Peter and Bobby left us to go carousing. It was really me first time out without me parents, so it was an exciting time for me." She looked down at her hands, embarrassed. "Lillian must have gotten impatient with me because I was looking around so much, that she left me there, right in the middle of the festival. I didn't know where she went. I didn't know where me other cousins went. I couldn't remember how to get back to the aunt's house. There were so many people around me that I began to... I don't know the word to describe it... but I couldn't breathe..."</p>
<p>"Panic is the word you're looking for," Sidney supplied, handing her the glass of water, since she was getting distressed again.</p>
<p>She drank obediently, then gave the glass back to Sidney, who set it back down on the table. "Me father says when you're in such a situation, the best thing to do is to look for a policeman, but I couldn't find one. Suddenly, there was a very handsome, young lad who was right behind me and led me out of the crowd. He didn't look like any bloke I've ever seen before. He looked like... a Hollywood film star. Spoke like one, too. He said he was from LA. Is that in America?"</p>
<p>The seducer was not a Scot, then. Sidney filed that information away in his memory bank. "Yes, it stands for Los Angeles, which is in the state of California, one of the biggest states of America."</p>
<p>Clothilde looked impressed by his knowledge. "He told me his name was Mike and he was on holiday with his older brother. He was a little older than me, maybe twenty? Anyway, Mike said he was going to help me find me cousins' aunt's house for he knew the lady and we could ask around together." At this point, she stopped and began to cry again, shaking her head.</p>
<p>Sidney reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "It'll be better for you once you get it all out, Clothilde. Unburden yourself."</p>
<p>"Instead, he dragged me into this barn, away from the crowds and he..." She buried her face in her hands and wailed. "I can't tell you."</p>
<p>Sidney took the wet handkerchief, untangled it, and pressed it into her hand. "Come on, child, you must. I cannot fully help you unless I know what happened."</p>
<p>She hiccuped and blew her nose into the handkerchief. "You're that vicar who helps that inspector from Cambridgeshire solve crimes, aren't you?"</p>
<p>Sidney knew why she was asking him this. He nodded. To fortify himself for what was coming, he downed a healthy gulp of his whiskey.</p>
<p>Her lower lip trembled. "He forced me, vicar. He took me into that barn and forced me. And it hurt ever so bad. I thought it was going to last forever. Afterwards, he laughed and threw money at me. American dollars. I was so ashamed. I think I must have done something to make him think I was... a strumpet. And then he just left me there."</p>
<p>Fury lanced through Sidney and he wished he could find this unknown American boy right now and beat him to a pulp. The worst sort of criminals, in his opinion, were rapists and those who specifically victimized women and children. He took a couple of deep breaths in order to center himself. "And you didn't see him again during your holiday?"</p>
<p>"No, thank God," she said with a sob. "I don't know how I managed it, but somehow I put mesself together and ventured out of the barn to find me cousins. They'd been out looking for me, as it turned out. I was so ashamed that I pretended nothing happened. I told them I got lost, which I did. I left the money on the floor of the barn. I had some hay in me hair, so Amelia made jokes about me taking a tumble with a Scottish lad. I almost broke down." She covered her mouth, horrified at her own retelling of the story.</p>
<p>"Listen to me very carefully, Clothilde, none of this was your fault. You didn't entice that young man. You were vulnerable and lost, so he took advantage of you. If you have to blame someone, blame Peter and Bobby. Their first responsibility was to keep you and their sister safe, but they failed at that. They put their carousing ahead of your safety."</p>
<p>Sidney knew it was wrong of him to give her the idea of blaming her cousins, but he wanted to give her something else to feel: anger. It was better that she blamed her male cousins and the man who took advantage of her rather than have her suffer, thinking she invited her own rape.</p>
<p>"There's something else, Mr. Chambers. Mike said he and his brother are also visiting Ireland, then England. He said they were... trying to find their roots, whatever that means. The thing is, Mr. Chambers, this was almost four months ago, so surely they must be in England by now, right? They have a house in London, where they're planning to stay till the end of summer. And Mike said he'd look me up once he got here and that I'd enjoy meeting his brother..."</p>
<p>The girl was absolutely terrified and Sidney couldn't blame her. "Did you tell him where you live, Clothilde?"</p>
<p>Her face turned so white that her lips appeared bloodless. "I said I lived in Cambridgeshire because he would have thought I was a village hick if I'd told him I lived in Grantchester, which no one has ever heard of."</p>
<p>Sidney was silently relieved. Clothilde was an unusual name and it wouldn't have been hard to find her in such a small village like Grantchester. "Don't worry, he won't find you here."</p>
<p>The girl looked up at him, her blue eyes glassy with tears. "Can you promise me that, vicar?"</p>
<p>Sidney couldn't give her a direct answer. Instead, he gave her a vague platitude about God always watching over her and finished his drink.</p>
<p>Later on, when Jack Carmody walked him to the door, Sidney asked him to step outside with him for a moment, though it was freezing cold. Clothilde's father put on a heavy coat and followed him.</p>
<p>"What did you find out, vicar?"</p>
<p>Sidney blew on his hands before pulling on his gloves, giving himself a moment to think. How could he phrase this so that Clothilde would receive no further censure and only love and support from her parents? There was really no other way, but to tell him the truth.</p>
<p>"Jack, Clothilde did not go off and meet some young man in Inverness." He put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "She was raped. By an American tourist. She needs you now more than ever to help get her through this trauma and pain. And she will need you both to raise her baby."</p>
<p>Jack Carmody stared at him for several beats, unable to believe what he just heard. His first reaction was a bitter laugh. "Oh, that girl of mine would say anything to avoid repercussions for this, wouldn't she? Raped, indeed."</p>
<p>Sidney hoped that the man would just take him at his word, but it looked like he would need some convincing. He'd be happy to stand here all night and do just that, if he didn't have this infernal headache and wasn't about to freeze to death. "Jack, you and your wife both said that you raised a good, God-fearing girl. A good, God-fearing girl wouldn't throw herself at some rascal tourist at first opportunity. You've taught her better than that. You've watched over her like a hawk. You know she isn't a girl loose with her favors. It's out of character for her. Besides, she wouldn't lie to a priest, would she?"</p>
<p>"No, even my girl is not wicked enough to do that. In fact, she's not wicked at all." Jack Carmody's face crumpled and his shoulders began to shake. "Oh, God, it had to be a Yank, didn't it? Oh my poor girl, the way I've treated her these past few months. She was savaged, the poor lamb. What are we going to do now, vicar?"</p>
<p>Sidney hated being the bearer of bad news. He hated not being able to fix things immediately. Offering comforting words and a consoling pat on the back seemed... weak and ineffectual. "Talk it over with your wife. Clothilde needs you both of you. If you want further assistance, you know the number to the vicarage. I'm here for all of you."</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Good Evening, Mr. Chambers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney receives an unexpected visit from his mysterious new neighbor and is startled when she asks him directly for help.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney walked the half mile home to the vicarage with a droning headache and a heavy heart. The grisly murder scene of his old professor was forever emblazoned in his mind's eye. The grief of Elsie Myers was a sack of wet sand across his shoulders. And then there was poor, sweet Clothilde. She reminded him all too well of Abigail Redmond, another teenage girl who badly needed his help. And yet he'd failed her. The cold seemed to seep deep into his soul.</p>
<p>He was relieved to reach the vicarage and hoped he didn't have to go out anymore today. He was so exhausted that his limbs shook and it wasn't just from the frigid weather. He entered his home just as Mrs. C was leaving for the day. She already had her hat on and bag with her. </p>
<p>She looked over him and clucked her tongue in concern. "You look terrible, Mr. Chambers. I left you some chicken and dumplings for supper. Perhaps you should have a bowl for tea, then take a nap. I can make you a hot drink before I leave, if you like. You appear ready to keel over."</p>
<p>Sidney sneezed into his sleeve, remembering in time that he'd given his backup handkerchief to Clothilde and his other one was soiled. Grumbling, Mrs. C dug into her gigantic bag and pulled out a handkerchief to give him.</p>
<p>"That was disgusting, Mr. Chambers. Where are your own hankies? Oh let me guess, you gave them away to damsels in distress. Handkerchiefs don't grow on trees, Sidney. I had to sew some for you out of old sheets last time, as it was."</p>
<p>Sidney blew his nose and thanked his housekeeper as she helped him with his coat and scarf. He took off his hat and gloves, then followed her into the kitchen. "You're a blessing, my dear Mrs. Chapman. I'll walk you home myself when you're ready."</p>
<p>"You'll do no such thing!" She made him sit at the breakfast nook and placed her palm on his forehead. "Heavens, what are you doing galavanting about, when you've got a fever?" </p>
<p>Sidney groaned inwardly. He couldn't afford to get sick when there was a new investigation on hand. "It's nothing, Mrs. C. I was just out in the snow for too long, that's all. I'll be fine."</p>
<p>His housekeeper frowned. She disappeared down the hallway and came back with a packet of paracetamol. She shook two tablets onto her palm and gave them to him along with a glass of water. "Go on, take them. You'll feel a lot better."</p>
<p>Sidney did as she asked because there was use in arguing with the woman. "You're fussing. I hate when you fuss."</p>
<p>"You need fussing over and that's why you have to get married, Mr. Chambers." Mrs. C put the kettle on and took a bowl from the cupboard to ladle her chicken and dumplings into. She set it in front of him on the table. "Eat. Then you'll go straight to bed. I'll have a hot water bottle for you." </p>
<p>"I don't want you walking home alone," he protested. "It's gotten dark and it's snowing."</p>
<p>Mrs. C rolled her eyes. "Never you mind about me."</p>
<p>"I always worry about you, Mrs. C." Sidney scooped a dumpling onto his spoon and began to blow on it.</p>
<p>"I'll call Mr. Chapman to come and pick me up. Does that satisfy you?"</p>
<p>Sidney popped the dumpling his mouth and chewed appreciatively before giving his housekeeper a thumbs up. "Your chicken and dumplings make everything better, Mrs. C."</p>
<p>"You've an Irish tongue in your head, my lad," the housekeeper grumbled. "Did you visit the Carmodys like you were supposed to?"</p>
<p>Sidney continued to eat the soup even though the dumplings began to feel like cement in his stomach. "I did, Mrs. C. I've convinced Jack Carmody that Clothilde needs all the love and support she can get right now. I hope Esther Carmody will follow suit."</p>
<p>Mrs. C sat in the chair opposite him with a crestfallen expression on her face. "Esther Carmody is a hard woman. She and Jack lost two girls to scarlet fever before Clothilde came along, you know." She sighed. "I suppose the only thing that can be done for that poor girl now is to find her a good husband."</p>
<p>Sidney balked. "Surely there are other options? I think the last thing she needs is to be shoved into a loveless marriage, not after what she's been through."</p>
<p>Mrs. C met his gaze and understood what he was saying. She didn't probe. She didn't have to. "She's a young girl in a small village with a babe on the way, Mr. Chambers. Would you rather she be treated like a trollop and cast out of the community?"</p>
<p>Sidney knew she was right, but he still couldn't help but be frustrated about it. "It's almost the sixties, Mrs. C. Surely they're not going to put her out in public square with a scarlet A painted on her chest, so folks can throw rotten vegetables at her."</p>
<p>Mrs. C stared at him as though he were a simpleton. "Sidney, we live in a small village on the outskirts of Cambridge, not London. Out here, people still have old-fashioned notions about certain things. And that includes a pregnancy out of wedlock."</p>
<p>"But Clothilde is the victim here. She should be showered with community support and understanding, not recriminations for something that was forced on her."</p>
<p>The old housekeeper reached out across the table and patted his hand. "I worry about you, my boy. For a supposed man of the world, you can be incredibly naïve about some things."</p>
<p>The tea kettle whistled, so Mrs. C set about preparing tea for the two of them, as Sidney insisted that she join him. She brought out two slices of his leftover birthday cake from the refrigerator and set them on the table.</p>
<p>"You know," said Mrs. C as she dug into her cake. "You could suggest some potential grooms for Clothilde. That way, you can ensure that the man she marries won't be too old or fat or miserly."</p>
<p>Sidney considered that as he too began to eat his cake. He wasn't in the mood for cake just now, but he had learned over the years that if his housekeeper put food in front of him, he had to eat it. "I suppose that's true, though I truly can't recommend it wholeheartedly. She's only sixteen, Mrs. C."</p>
<p>"Well, I'll help you come up with a list of prospective suitors, though I can't imagine there would be many men willing to take on a child bride with a babe already on the way." She looked at him pointedly. "You're always looking to save damsels in distress. How about you marry her?"</p>
<p>As he was in the middle of sipping his tea, Sidney almost choked on it and spilled some on his shirt front. He accepted the napkin Mrs. C passed over to him. "That's beyond insane. I'm more than twice her age and her pastor, besides. Talk about taking advantage. There are still whispers about the time Mr. Redmond accused me of molesting Abigail. Woman, have you no shame?"</p>
<p>Mrs. C shrugged, seemingly chastened, though it was a rare look for her. "It was just an idea and admittedly, a bad one. I beg your pardon, sir."</p>
<p>Sidney could never stay upset at his housekeeper for any longer than a minute. She was like a mother to him. "Forget it, Mrs. C. I'm just completely up a tree about this entire situation, that's all."</p>
<p>Mrs. C nodded. "I don't blame you, my boy. This is a tough one, indeed." She patted his hand again. "Well, it's getting late. I should give Jack a ring to pick me up."</p>
<p>Sidney frowned. "Are you sure, Mrs. C? I can walk you to your house, no problem, and be back here in no time."</p>
<p>"No," she said sharply. "You're on your way to a proper head cold and should be in bed. I'll make you a hot water bottle before I leave."</p>
<p>Sidney was about to get up to go to his room to change his clothes when there were three strong knocks on the front door. They didn't sound like Geordie's knocks. He recognized them by now. Before Mrs. C could get to the door, he gently moved her aside and opened it himself. </p>
<p>There was a giant of a man on the other side, wearing a bowler hat and an Ulster coat. To Sidney, he looked like an indomitable mountain. He recognized him as Mr. Butler, the aptly named servant of Lady Susan from Ravenwood Manor.</p>
<p>"Good evening, Canon Chambers, I have brought my lady to see you."</p>
<p>Sidney's eyes widened and he stared at the giant for a moment before he remembered his manners and stepped aside to let his guests in.</p>
<p>The first one to walk through was Miss Jing-Mei Chan, in a black ankle-length wool coat with white fur at the collar and the wrists. She also wore a white fur hat. She was followed by Miss Jifei Lee who was wearing a similar coat, but in red and her furs were black. The last one to enter was Lady Susan who wore a double-breasted peacoat that went down mid-thigh, but no furs nor a hat. She was dressed in a full black ankle-length skirt and wrapped in at least two scarves, as far Sidney could tell. Her face was covered by her ever present black veil.</p>
<p>"My goodness," Mrs. C murmured in amazement next to Sidney. </p>
<p>Sidney was half-aware that he was probably just standing there with his mouth open and didn't come into his own until his housekeeper elbowed him. He began to gather coats, hats, and purses with Mrs. C's help, informing his guests that he was putting them in his study, since there was no room in his tiny coat closet. </p>
<p>"I told you I met with Lady Susan," he muttered to Mrs. C. "She had a twin, you know. Lady Sarah. It was Lady Sarah who died."</p>
<p>Mrs. C who was neatly arranging the coats only raised her eyebrows and said nothing.</p>
<p>Sidney ushered his honored guests to his drawing room and hoped they didn't think his furniture too shabby. He had a nice fire roaring in the fireplace, so he had that going for him.</p>
<p>"Mr. Butler will be waiting for us in the car," Miss Jing-Mei Chang announced.</p>
<p>"That's nonsense. It's freezing out there," said Mrs. C. "He will be sitting in the kitchen where it is nice and toasty."</p>
<p>Sidney wondered if the old kitchen chairs would hold Mr. Butler's bulk and sincerely prayed they would prevail. He sat his guests down in their chosen areas, with Misses Chan and Lee on the sofa and Lady Susan in the armchair closest to the fireplace. He took the only available seat, which was the armchair adjacent to the lady. They were separated by a small round table with a potted plant on it, he didn't know what kind.</p>
<p>He saw, now that the lady wasn't buried in scarves and a bulky coat, that she was wearing a simple, high-necked black dress that covered her throat and long sleeves to cover her arms. It was an improvement upon her widow's weeds as this dress was a little bit more modern, but she still looked like she was going to a funeral. Her hands were encased in black lace gloves. Propped up next to her was a cane made of cherry oak and a simple black handle.</p>
<p>He nodded his thanks as Mrs. C brought in the tea service without a word and exited just as quietly. He'd asked her if she wanted to be introduced to the guests, but she balked at it. She was just a servant, she insisted. Servants didn't mix with nobility. Sidney thought this was ridiculous because she was married to one of the richest men in Cambridge.</p>
<p>He tried to focus on his guests, but his vision was starting to dim a little. What a fine time to be ill. He wished his infernal headache would go away already, for Lady Susan was by his side and in truth, she really intrigued him.</p>
<p>"You must be wondering why we're here, Canon Chambers," said Miss Lee, adjusting her lace gloves on her lap. "It's also almost supper time, so we've brought you dinner. Please do not think us presumptuous. We have Peking duck for you and Biang-Biang noodles for good luck and long life. Mr. Butler brought them in with him."</p>
<p>"Erm, thank you." Sidney thought he had smelled food and interesting spices when the group entered the vicarage. "I'm sure I will enjoy them."</p>
<p>"My lady has been receiving strange missives," said Miss Chan. "A couple of days before Judith Myers was found, my lady received this in the post." She pulled a piece of paper from the flat leather pouch she held on her lap.</p>
<p>Sidney indicated that she should place it on the coffee table between them. Using the other end of the pen he took from the chest pocket of his blazer, he pulled the document toward him to study it. He was careful not to touch it so he wouldn't get his fingerprints on it. Geordie had impressed upon him the importance of not getting his fingerprints on evidence. At first, what he was looking at didn't make sense, then the shapes became letters. In colorful bits cut out from newspapers and magazines and pasted on white paper, it said, <em>"First, the milkmaid."</em> </p>
<p>He sucked in his breath, wondering why the lady would receive such a ghastly note. He switched his attention to Miss Chan. "You said it came in the post? Do you still have the envelope it came in? Was it specifically addressed to Lady Susan?"</p>
<p>Miss Chan looked alarmed by the barrage of questions. "I'm not sure about the envelope, I'll have to look. But yes, it came in the post, specifically addressed to my lady."</p>
<p>Next to Sidney, the lady in question stirred in her seat, adjusting her legs under her skirts, as though seeking to be more comfortable. He was immediately concerned. "Is there something I can get you, my lady? May I fetch you a footstool, perhaps, so that you can prop your feet up? I have old wounds from the war that also bother me when it's cold outside."</p>
<p>Lady Susan turned her head slightly toward him, then shook her head. Sidney thought she might have understood him, but then Miss Lee began to speak Chinese to her and Lady Susan shook her head again and replied to her cousin in kind. Sidney almost groaned in frustration.</p>
<p>"My lady appreciates your concern, Mr. Chambers, but wishes that you don't bother yourself on her account," Miss Lee relayed to him in her sing-song voice. "She is very sorry about your war injuries and thanks you for your service to this great nation."</p>
<p>"It... it was my duty," Sidney told Lady Susan as he struggled for something appropriate to say. He turned again to Miss Chan. "Why didn't you tell Inspector Keating when he first came to see you?"</p>
<p>The secretary looked at a loss for words. She glanced at Miss Lee, then Lady Susan before saying, "We thought it best not to implicate my lady in a scandal."</p>
<p>Sidney surveyed all three women in disbelief. "A young woman died and you withheld a vital clue." He directly addressed the lady next to him. "Did you at least consult your solicitor? Have you spoken to your brother at the New Scotland Yard?"</p>
<p>Lady Susan lowered her head and folded her hands on her lap as though in prayer, shutting him out. Sidney wished she would just talk to him without the interlocutors in the room. What was the point of all this subterfuge?</p>
<p>"My cousin, the Marquess," Miss Lee began hesitantly. "He is very protective of my lady. If he knew about this, he would overreact and keep her under lock and key. He has done so before."</p>
<p>Sidney pointed to the note. "Do you think this note was meant to threaten Lady Susan herself? Do you believe that the killer first attacked Judith Myers, her lady's maid, as a prelude of what's to come?"</p>
<p>Lady Susan whimpered and hugged her arms to herself. Sidney longed to comfort her, but he knew it would be out of bounds. She would not welcome his touch.</p>
<p>"Yes," said Miss Chan. "The killer is definitely targeting my lady. We had heard disturbing rumors this afternoon that a professor was murdered this morning at Corpus Christi, where my lady's brother attended college.'</p>
<p>Sidney thought Ravenwood Manor was pretty isolated from the rest of Cambridgeshire, but he supposed that news of gritty murders always spread quickly. He wondered if it made it to the afternoon edition of the Cambridge Daily. "How were you made aware of the crime?"</p>
<p>Miss Chan appeared a little green around the gills. With a shaking hand, she reached once again into her leather pouch and retrieved another document, which she automatically placed on the table this time and pushed toward him. "We received this other communiqué yesterday in the early morning post, before you and the Inspector arrived in the afternoon."</p>
<p>Sidney used his pen again to move the earlier document aside, so he could bring the other closer for study. This time, the note said, "<em>And then the dead professor in the library."</em> It wasn't in pasted cut-ups this time, but written in the left-handed scrawl of a child with a red crayon.</p>
<p>"You should have told us about this yesterday," Sidney insisted, feeling a spike of anger go through him. "We could have prevented this tragedy from happening." </p>
<p>Miss Lee stared at him in confusion. "But how? The professor isn't named nor is the library identified. It didn't even specify a college."</p>
<p>"But both murders are connected to Lady Susan in a way, aren't they? Judith Myers was her lady's maid and thus, the first victim. And then Dr. Rutherford this morning at the library of Corpus, where her brother was an alumnus," Sidney argued. "Why did you come to me and not directly to the police?"</p>
<p>"Lady Susan thinks you have an honest face," Miss Lee revealed shyly. "She would like you to make inquiries on her behalf to find out who has been sending her these awful notes. She would also like you to serve as her liaison with the police department. You will be fairly compensated."</p>
<p>"No compensation needed," Sidney quickly assured them. "But I am a priest, not a private inquiry agent. I have ministerial duties to which I must attend. I may not have the time to..."</p>
<p>"Will you tell us, Mr. Chambers, how the professor was killed?" Miss Chan asked, leaning forward.</p>
<p>Sidney hesitated. He didn't want to relive the scene by relating it to his guests. If drinking bleach would remove the horrendous images from his mind's eye, he would have done so already. His guests were also well-born ladies and would be extremely offended by the grisly details of the murder. </p>
<p>"Why do you want to know?" he asked pointedly. It seemed bizarre to him that she should ask such a thing.</p>
<p>Lady Susan suddenly spoke in a burst of Chinese, which Sidney would later recognize as Mandarin, directed at Miss Chan. At this, Miss Chan gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes wide in what looked like horror. She shook her head, but Lady Susan persisted, spoke more forcefully in her language, and pointed at Sidney.</p>
<p><em>"Wô zhīdào, fūrén,"</em> said Miss Chan with a bow to Lady Susan.</p>
<p>At least that's what it sounded like to Sidney. He glanced at Lady Susan. He knew now more than ever that she understood everything that was being said. Miss Chan had asked him a question and when he didn't give her the response the lady wanted to hear, she got upset. He couldn't just accuse her of outright fraud or he'd scare her away and he couldn't do that because she needed his help. </p>
<p>"The professor," said the lady by the fireplace. "Was he suffocated by a towel?" </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Sidney's Grand Proposal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney agrees to help Lady Susan with her unusual request, even as Mrs. C disapproves. He finds himself becoming more attracted to Lady Susan, though she may prove to be an unreliable witness.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was so startled by the sound of her voice that it took a few moments to register that she had spoken. He had thought it would be soft, hesitant, and maybe lilting like Miss Lee's way of speaking, but it was strong, the pitch lower than that of the two ladies, and the accent vaguely mid-Atlantic.</p>
<p>He decided he was not going to make a big thing of her speaking English out of nowhere. He turned toward her. "How did you know, my lady?"</p>
<p>"Was there a red ribbon found in the scene anywhere?"</p>
<p>Sidney was instantly alarmed. She definitely knew way more about this case than she previously let on. "What do you know about what's happening, Lady Susan? What is your involvement in all of this?"</p>
<p>Lady Susan seemed to look at her cousin first, then her assistant before jerking her head to the side, indicating that they should leave. The two women stood, bowed, and left the room. "May we sit together on the sofa, vicar? I don't hear very well in the ear closest to you. I suspect I'll lose hearing in it entirely before too long."</p>
<p>She sounded crystal-clear and intelligent, a woman who didn't mince words. She was no wallflower, to be sure. She had trouble getting up and had to use her cane, but when Sidney offered his arm, she waved him off and made her way to the couch herself. She cautiously lowered her body to the cushions, moving like an old woman with bad arthritis. Before she could settle against the backrest, Sidney snuck in a throw pillow behind her so she could have extra support.</p>
<p>She turned her head slowly toward him. "Thank you, Mr. Chambers. But please don't treat me like an invalid. I get enough of that from Miss Chan and my cousin. They mean well, but their solicitude can be so exhausting. And do sit down. You hovering over me like that is making me nervous."</p>
<p>Sidney had never been sure about etiquette with the nobility. His sister Jen was so much better at this than he was. At Girton, they still conducted classes on manners and deportment. He did know that if a lady were standing, he had to remain standing, too. Now that she was comfortable, he supposed it was finally all right to sit.</p>
<p>But he didn't. "While I'm up, would you like a drink, my lady?"</p>
<p>She laughed and the sound surprised Sidney. It sounded rusty, like it was something she hadn't done in a while. He had to admit, though, that it was a little spooky to see a woman in a black veil laughing.</p>
<p>"I take it you mean an alcoholic drink?"</p>
<p>Sidney found himself smiling. "Yes, actually. I have whisky, sherry, and I think a bottle of port that my mother left behind the last time she visited."</p>
<p>"I'll have whatever you're having, vicar."</p>
<p>He liked the husky quality of her voice. She sounded a lot like Lauren Bacall. "Whisky straight, no ice? I only have Johnnie Walker Black."</p>
<p>"Perfect. Pour it, Padre."</p>
<p>Sidney almost did a double-take. The gentility was almost gone from her tone. She talked like one of the nail-spitting dames in the hard-boiled American detective dime-store novels he sometimes indulged in. He scratched his chin, wondering about this about-face. That's something he would have to worry about later. He had to get the lady a drink. He poured them both one and a half shots and brought the glasses back to the sofa.</p>
<p>"Let me know if you want to drink something else." He handed her the glass.</p>
<p>She saluted him with it, but Sidney had the idea that she was mocking him. "Many thanks," she said dryly.</p>
<p>Sidney sat on the opposite side of the couch, puzzled about the complete change in the woman. Was the masquerade also for the benefit of her cousin and assistant? Did she have a mask for every situation? He had to ask it out loud. "Who are you?"</p>
<p>She lifted her veil just enough so she could sneak her glass in there and sip her whisky. "I am who I say I am, Padre. The sister of the thirteenth Marquess of Ravenwood and daughter of the previous marquess. I am the Honorable Lady Susan Fenwick, widow of Captain Andrew Cooper of the U.S. Air Force."</p>
<p>Her husband's last name was Cooper? It couldn't be a coincidence. "Was your husband S.L. Cooper, the author? Is that how you know the details of the professor's murder?"</p>
<p>Lady Susan snorted, a decidedly unladylike sound. "Why assume that my husband was the writer, Mr. Chambers? Couldn't I have just as easily written the books?"</p>
<p>Sidney felt his face heat up and it wasn't just from the illness that he know he had coming. He took a healthy gulp of his drink. "I beg your pardon, my lady. Are you S.L. Cooper?"</p>
<p>She shook her head. "No, it was my sister Sarah who was the author. She used my husband's last name as part of her nom de plume. She was... incredible."</p>
<p>Sidney frowned. "I don't understand. The accident that ended her life was three years ago, correct? Two more books have been released since then and the tenth book is scheduled to come out at the end of the summer."</p>
<p>In the firelight, he could see the silhouette of her delicate features. She had a short, elegant nose with a round tip and not too far below it was a full mouth. Even in the dimness of the room, he could see that she possessed long eyelashes. </p>
<p>Those long eyelashes lowered, then lifted again. "My sister was a prolific author. The two books released post-humously had already been written and as for the tenth book..." She hesitated, then looked directly at him. "Can I trust you to be discreet about this, Padre?"</p>
<p>Sidney wanted to laugh. She was revealing one revelation after  another to him and he suspected she wouldn't want him to share any of his findings with Geordie, but now she was asking for his discretion? "If you're asking me as your priest, then yes, our conversation falls under priest-penitent privilege and everything you say will remain between us."</p>
<p>She took a sip of her drink again. "You drive one hell of a bargain, Padre, but all right, I'll attend your church if that means you'll keep my confidence."</p>
<p>"That's not quite what I..."</p>
<p>She made a vague gesture with her hand as though dismissing what he'd been about to say. "I'm probably in need of spiritual guidance, anyway."</p>
<p>Sidney couldn't deny that. The lady clearly needed his help. What type of help he could provide, he hadn't been able to determine quite yet. "What is it that you need me to keep in confidence?"</p>
<p>"This entire visit, for one." She lifted her veil halfway and finished the rest of her drink, giving the empty glass to Sidney. "In particular, about the tenth book. Sarah left copious notes and an outline before she passed. To honor her, I decided to finish the book myself. I was Sarah's second pair of eyes and I read everything she ever wrote. I did my best to copy her style of writing. I can only hope I succeeded."</p>
<p>Sidney didn't know what to say. Usually he had a ready platitude, but this was a situation he'd never encountered before. He was truly at a loss here. "I'm sure it'll be just as good, if not better." He held up her empty glass along with his own. "Another?"</p>
<p>Her amused chuckle aroused something in him. "Sure, why not." </p>
<p>He went up to the drinks cabinet and refilled both of their drinks. He was having one bizzarre day. Geordie would never believe it. Not that he could tell Geordie anything about it. He returned to the sofa and sat a little bit closer to her this time. She didn't react. He handed her the drink. "Why the subterfuge? Why pretend that you don't know how to speak English?"</p>
<p>She toasted him again, but didn't immediately drink it. "I have got to get you some better whisky. I have a few bottles of Lagavulin at home. Twenty-five years old. A couple of bottles single-malt Mcallan, sixty years old. A Balvenie, thirty years old, and two bottles of Dalmore, twenty years old."</p>
<p>Sidney raised his eyebrows. "You certainly know your scotch."</p>
<p>"My father was a dipsomaniac and a collector. He was a connoisseur." She lifted her veil to sip her drink. "Martha found a treasure trove of the stuff when she was cleaning out the cellar. I'm told they're worth a fortune."</p>
<p>This time, the veil was raised high enough that Sidney saw a needle-thin scar that slashed down from her jaw to her chin. "You're very good at diverting conversations, my lady. You haven't answered my question. Why the subterfuge?"</p>
<p>She shrugged. "It's simple. To further distinguish myself from Sarah."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"In our teens, Sarah chose to come here to England with our Aunt Gemma, my father's younger sister, and continue her studies here. I stayed in Hong Kong with my mother for a few years more. Eventually, Aunt Gemma got bored of England and went back to Hong Kong, but Sarah stayed behind under the care of my Aunt Beatrice, my father's elder sister, to attend Lady Matilda's College in Oxford." She paused to take another sip of her whisky. "Meanwhile, Aunt Gemma fell in love with a Chinese businessman who was headquartered in San Francisco and by then, my mother had died in a sailing accident in Greece, so I went with my aunt. I ended up attending Stanford University and getting a degree. At a dance that my old sorority sisters invited me to, I met Andrew. Ironically, back in England, Sarah had also met an American who became obsessed with her and pursued her for years even after Sarah ended the relationship. I..." She suddenly stopped as her voice broke.</p>
<p>Sidney patted his coat and trouser pockets for a handkerchief, but all he had was the one he'd already blown his nose on. Maybe he should start carrying two extra handkerchiefs from now on. He sighed. </p>
<p>Luckily, the lady had her own. From a pocket hidden in the folds of her skirt, she pulled out a black handkerchief and reached out under the veil to blot her tears. "I'm so sorry, I'm usually better at keeping my emotions in control."</p>
<p>"It's quite all right. I'm sure it's a very difficult sorry to tell."</p>
<p>"Yes." She cleared her throat. "The man persisted even after Sarah was dead. He was convinced that I was the one who died and Sarah lived. He harassed me for a couple of years, then suddenly stopped. I took the opportunity to flee from Malaya, then to Hong Kong, then to France, and finally here, back in Cambridgeshire, where I haven't been since I was a child. You see, I have no doubt he will find me again, so I need to convince him that I'm Susan. Sarah could never speak Chinese as well as I could. I figured that would be enough to dissuade him."</p>
<p>Sidney wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and give her comfort, but he knew she wouldn't welcome it. This woman had gone through something he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. She would be wary of letting anyone get close to her again. "The sender of these notes, do you think maybe it could be this lunatic who is obsessed with you and Lady Sarah?"</p>
<p>She dropped her head in her hands. "I honestly don't know, Padre. It could be anyone, some faceless maniac. Sarah had developed a cult-like following, you know, and some of her fans are just downright scary people. Maybe they're committing these murders as some kind of homage to her."</p>
<p>Sidney narrowed his eyes. "But they couldn't know that Sarah wrote these books. They could have just as easily make the same mistake as I did and assume S.L. Cooper is a man. Some of the crime scenes are truly grisly and one wouldn't suspect that a young lady of good breeding would..."</p>
<p>"You have a chauvinistic streak about you, Padre. You forget that our brother works for the New Scotland Yard."</p>
<p>Sidney found himself blushing again. He really had to watch himself with these sexist assumptions. It was almost the sixties, after all. He had to get with the times. "Have you received any more of these notes, my lady?"</p>
<p>She shook her head. "No, but the very thought of receiving another one, knowing there will be a murder that follows it has been keeping me up at night." </p>
<p>"Do you think you can keep me apprised as soon as you receive another one? We may be able to prevent the next murder if there are enough clues. Maybe we can find some of them in the text or..."</p>
<p>"Mr. Chambers, don't you think I would know these books like the back of my hand?" she exclaimed.</p>
<p>"But maybe you're too close to the source material. Sometimes, a second pair of eyes are needed."</p>
<p>She exhaled through her mouth, making a huffing sound and disturbing the veil. "Touché, sir." </p>
<p>Sidney knew he was going to help her one way or another and he was going to need Geordie's assistance. How much he would have to reveal to him in order to gain his cooperation was another matter entirely. "There is something else that you need, isn't there?"</p>
<p>She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then nodded again. "I need your help to slowly integrate myself into the community. At first I thought that hiding out in that mansion in the wood was the way to go, but I don't want to be known as some weirdo hermit. I'd stick out as an anomaly. What I need is to belong, as though I've always been here. I need the protection of a community." </p>
<p>Sidney understood that. In Grantchester, folks protected their own. They had a tendency to close ranks against newcomers, but the Fenwicks were an institution. Every year, their charity foundation donated thousands of pounds toward the betterment of Grantchester. People just needed to be reminded that although she looked a little different from them, Lady Susan was still a Fenwick.</p>
<p>"Of course, my lady. I will help you in any way that I can." </p>
<p>She turned her head toward him again. "Mr. Chambers, are you seeing anyone?"</p>
<p>Sidney was surprised by the question. "No."</p>
<p>"I'd asked one of my servants to ask around about you discreetly, so I know you are not married."</p>
<p>He took a deep breath and slowly released it through his nostrils in an effort to center himself. "My lady, where are you going with this?"</p>
<p>She finished the rest of her drink and though she struggled to get the glass on the coffee table, managed to land it on there. "Mr. Chambers, this is rather embarrassing for me, so there is really no other way to go on about it, but to ask you directly. Do you think you can stomach pretending to be my fiance for the duration of this investigation? I'm horribly disfigured and not much to look at, but I promise to keep the veil on whenever we're out in public."</p>
<p>"I..." Sidney couldn't immediately think of a response. He drained his drink and placed it on the table alongside hers. "Do you realize, my lady, that I'm a man of God? You're asking me to participate in an act of deception, which breaks the ninth commandment."</p>
<p>She lowered her head, as though he shamed her. "I need protection, Mr. Chambers. If the person behind all this is truly the man who is obsessed with my sister, then he is more dangerous than I initially believed. He needs to be convinced that I am Susan. Maybe if he discovered I was attached to someone, he would stop all of this and leave me alone."</p>
<p>"Lady Susan, whoever is doing all of this is someone truly demented. He wouldn't be stopped by a pretend engagement. He's already killed two people in horrific ways. He's not just going to pack up and go on his merry way, whistling a jolly tune to himself."</p>
<p>She hugged her arms to herself as though she were suddenly very cold. Sidney grabbed the blanket Mrs. Wilkins knitted for him last Christmas draped over the back of the sofa and tucked it around her. She looked up at him and murmured gratefully.</p>
<p>"I'm afraid, Mr. Chambers, and you're the first person I've met who seems to truly care. There's another thing. I can't really explain it, but I feel safe with you. I find it very hard to trust people, especially with everything that has happened to me within the last few years, but with you, I just feel... security, I suppose."</p>
<p>"It's a good quality for a man of the cloth to have, don't you think?" Sidney said lightly.</p>
<p>She shook her head. "It's not just that, Mr. Chambers. From what I've heard about you, you seem to truly care about people and have a strong sense of justice and setting things to right. I truly need your help."</p>
<p>Sidney closed his eyes for a moment in an effort to calm his thoughts. From the very beginning, he'd felt the need to help this woman and bring her out of the dark. Maybe God was guiding him right now. "I will help you. I will be your fiance, but it will not be pretend. I cannot assist you in deception."</p>
<p>"What?" She sounded truly shocked.</p>
<p>"Wait here." Sidney went down the hallway to his bedroom and turned on the light. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He prayed to God he was doing the right thing. He opened the doors to his wardrobe and reached into the back of the shelf above the clothes rod that held his civilian garb. He felt around for the small velvet box that held his grandmother's engagement ring and exhaled with relief when he found it.</p>
<p>When he returned to the sitting room, he found Lady Susan with her cousin and secretary hovering over her. To his astonishment, Mrs. C was there, too, standing by the corner lamp like a sentry, her face impassive. She looked at him as he made his entrance, raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. It wasn't like his housekeeper to be laconic. </p>
<p>The velvet box in his blazer pocket weighed two stone and he felt a little foolish. What was he supposed to do now? This was going way above and beyond, even for him.</p>
<p>Lady Susan turned her head slightly toward him and nodded.</p>
<p>It dawned on him that she wanted an audience. The woman was an enigma within a puzzle. He steeled himself and took another step toward the lady in question. He had said he would help her and that's exactly what he was going to do.</p>
<p>Misses Chan and Lee moved aside, watching him warily as he approached their lady. Sidney was careful not to make any sudden moves as though they were prey animals likely to bolt into the nearest thicket for protection. Finally he had room enough to kneel in front of Lady Susan. He'd never proposed marriage to anyone before, but he was a traditionalist and always figured that when he finally proposed to someone, he would get down on one knee. </p>
<p>Somewhere behind him, Mrs. C gasped audibly.</p>
<p>Within the blue and green blanket, Lady Susan looked so small and vulnerable that his heart ached for her. He extended his hand to her, hoping she would take it. It took her a minute, but finally, her hand came out from under the blanket and slipped into his.</p>
<p>"Lady Susan, I realize we haven't known each other very long, but from the very first moment I saw you, I've felt a kinship and a special connection with you. I don't have much in the way of money or property, but what I can offer you is safety, understanding, and an abundance of love. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"</p>
<p>He said all of that in one breath and got light-headed by the end of it. But everything he said was true. None of it was a lie. He was not breaking the ninth commandment.</p>
<p>Lady Susan did not respond right away. Next to her, Miss Lee spoke in rapid Chinese. Sidney sighed. So they were back to that again. They must be doing it for Mrs. C's benefit.</p>
<p>Lady Susan was facing him now and the black veiled head bobbed enthusiastically. <em>"Xìng, wô huì de."</em></p>
<p>Miss Chan said, "That means, 'Yes, I will,' Mr. Chambers."</p>
<p>Because the moment called for it, Sidney brought her gloved hand to his lips and held it there for three beats. He hoped she wouldn't slap him. She didn't. Instead, what sounded like a girlish giggle came from the black veil.</p>
<p>"Heaven help us," Mrs. C muttered from her corner.</p>
<p>Sidney ignored his housekeeper and pulled out the velvet box from his blazer. "I know you are used to grander things.This ring is not much, my lady, but it's been in my family for generations. It belonged to my grandmother and the mother of my grandfather before her." </p>
<p>Next to him, Miss Lee was translating simultaneously. It was almost disconcerting, but not enough to throw him off his speech.</p>
<p>Lady Susan nodded, so Sidney opened the box. Within it was a gold ring decorated with a one carat marquis-cut ruby flanked on both sides by diamonds half a carat each. The setting was old-fashioned, but to him, it was classically beautiful. His mother gave it to him on his thirtieth birthday in hopes that he would soon find a bride.</p>
<p>Under the veil, his intended made a squeaky noise that reminded him of a tea kettle.</p>
<p>"She is very pleased, Canon Chambers," Miss Lee said with a small smile.</p>
<p>Lady Susan removed the glove from her left hand and held it out to him.</p>
<p>Sidney took a deep breath. Her hand was so small and pale, but his mother was also a petite woman. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. He slid the ring onto her fourth finger, which was so tiny, it reminded him of a doll's. It was only a little loose. </p>
<p>She closed her hand into a fist as though she meant to lock the ring in. She brought up her free hand to the vicinity of her lips over the veil, then presented her open palm to him, and said, <em>"Xiè-xiè."</em></p>
<p>"That means 'thank you,'" Miss Chan supplied helpfully.</p>
<p>To Sidney, it sounded like "shi-shi" except with a strong "z" sound in place of the "s." He repeated it softly, uncertain of the pronunciation. He read somewhere that Chinese was harder to learn than Arabic and he had a hell of a time learning Arabic. Eventually, he became conversant in it and it came in handy when he lived briefly in Egypt on a mission.</p>
<p>He realized that her Chinese voice was softer and higher-pitched than her American one.</p>
<p>"Very good," Miss Lee said approvingly, clapping the tips of her fingers together rapidly.</p>
<p><em>"Xié-xié,"</em> Sidney replied, copying the same gesture that Lady Susan made with the phrase.</p>
<p>And then the most unexpected thing happened. The lady stood up shakily with the aid of her cane, so that the top of Sidney's head could have rested just under her breasts.</p>
<p>After kneeling for so long, he had a hard time getting back up on his feet and his knees screamed in protest. He had to use the edge of the heavy coffee table as leverage to help him stand.</p>
<p>Suddenly, he was toe to toe with her and was again amazed by her petite stature. The top of her head barely came up to his chest and he had to be at least five stone heavier than her. She was a tiny lady. He felt a surge of protectiveness for her and vowed that he would let no harm come to this woman. She was his fiancee, after all.</p>
<p>She began to lift her veil and Sidney was reminded of a bride at the altar on her wedding day. Was he going to see her face at last? But she stopped right before her nose, revealing only her full lips. </p>
<p>In a voice so soft that only he could hear her, she said, "I think we should seal this engagement with a kiss, don't you?"</p>
<p>Sidney didn't even think twice. He put his hands on her waist, pulled her close, and covered her mouth with his. She tasted like whisky, woman, and something undefinable. Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.</p>
<p>Later that night, while he was in bed, unable to sleep because of the coughing and sneezing, he thought about the ramifications of being engaged to a woman he'd only met twice. He'd never seen her face and there were some parts of her story that didn't quite make sense to him, but she was a puzzle he was willing to solve. </p>
<p>On her way out, she had pulled him aside for an embrace, but to also tell him that she loved the ring and would keep it safe and cherished while they were betrothed. Sidney picked up her gloved hand once again and kissed her knuckles a little longer this time, while looking into what he perceived to be her eyes.</p>
<p>As he sneezed into his bedsheets, he realized he might have just given his new fiancee a cold.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Sidney's Big News</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney tells Geordie about his engagement who accepts it both confusion and concern. Geordie tells Sidney they need to delve deeper into Lady Susan's background.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warning: description of sexual assault</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, Sidney couldn't get out of bed. His body ached all over, he was coughing his lungs out, and he had the worst chills. Mrs. C had piled two additional blankets on top of him and put a hot water bottle under his feet. </p>
<p>She had the lower part of her face covered with a handkerchief, so she looked like a bandit. She said she didn't want to catch Sidney's plague because then she'd have to stay at home and he and Leonard would starve without her. Plus she didn't want to get Jack sick because she said he was the biggest baby whenever he was ill.</p>
<p>"You must have been delirious or drunk when you proposed to that woman," she muttered, wiping his brow with a face towel. "Delirious and drunk. Why would you want to marry someone you can't even talk to? She'd be chattering in her gibberish all day without you understanding a word of it. Would drive you up the wall in a week, mark my words."</p>
<p>Sidney groaned. All he really wanted to do was sleep for a hundred years. "You're the one who's been insisting for years that I should get married. Now that I'm finally engaged, you're still complaining?"</p>
<p>Mrs. C threw her hands up in exasperation. "I didn't say to propose to the next woman who caught your fancy. Have you even seen that face of hers? It could be anyone under that veil. She could be a fraud for all you know. And you gave her your family heirloom! You must have been delirious!"</p>
<p>Leonard Finch appeared at his door, looking like a newly sharpened pencil, all neat and freshly showered, ready to minister and spread God's word in his priestly garb. "What's this I hear about you getting engaged?"</p>
<p>Sidney lifted his head as Mrs. C prompted him so she could place another pillow under him. "Where were you last night?"</p>
<p>"I was sitting with Mrs. Rubens. She was worried that Harold was going to meet our Maker last night, so she wanted me on hand. But it turned out Harold was just drunk and had very bad constipation."</p>
<p>"Poor Elspeth. There's another tragic mismatch for you," Mrs. C grumbled. "A decent woman from a good family married to a no-account drunk who's brought her nothing but misery and pain."</p>
<p>"The heart wants what it wants, my dear Mrs. Chapman," Leonard said patiently. "Sidney, who is the lucky woman? Anyone I know?"</p>
<p>Sidney sneezed into the handkerchief Mrs. C had thoughtfully provided for him. "You've never met her. She's new in town."</p>
<p>Leonard lifted an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."</p>
<p>Mrs. C rolled her eyes. "His new fiancee is the alleged Lady Susan who lives up in Ravenwood Manor.  She doesn't speak a lick of the Queen's English and travels with translators. She also goes around like a wraith wearing all black with a black veil over her face."</p>
<p>"Alleged?" Leonard repeated, scandalized.</p>
<p>Sidney sighed. He loved his housekeeper, but sometimes she had a tendency to bark at shadows where there weren't any. "Mrs. C suspects that my new fiancee isn't who she says she is because the real Lady Susan supposedly died in a car accident in Malaya three years ago. I've been telling her that it was Lady Sarah, the twin, who died."</p>
<p>Leonard's eyes widened. "Twins? This is sounding more and more like a Wilkie Collins novel. I can't wait to hear what happens next."</p>
<p>Mrs. C dropped the face towel in the basin and propped her hands on her hips. "You're the amateur sleuth. You should find out more about her before you marry her. When you're feeling better, maybe head up to London and see the marquess to confirm if this woman is truly his sister."</p>
<p>Sidney was exhausted. His mind was exhausted, his soul was exhausted, but he knew in his heart that he did the right thing last night. Lady Susan needed him. He couldn't explain what it was, but from the moment he met her, there was something about her that called out to him. "Mrs. C, of course I'm going to check out her story. I'm not an idiot."</p>
<p>"But you have a blind side a mile wide when it comes to damsels in distress, my boy." She picked up the face towel from the basin, wrung out the extra water, folded it into thirds, and slapped it on Sidney's forehead. "Keep it there."</p>
<p>"Ooh, someone's at the door. I bet it's Inspector Keating," said Leonard before dashing away.</p>
<p>A sharp glint appeared in Mrs. C's eye. "Let's hear you try to justify this engagement to Geordie Keating."</p>
<p>Sidney sighed. Under the cold compress, the nerve beneath his left eye began to throb painfully. He could already imagine what Geordie would say, line by line. "Mrs. C, it was my decision, all right? I have strong feelings for her."</p>
<p>Leonard showed up at his door again, this time wearing a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, like their beloved housekeeper. Right behind him was the inspector, who also looked like a highway man. </p>
<p>He walked past the Leonard and said, "You sly old dog. I knew it. You work fast, Chambers."</p>
<p>Sidney pushed the cold compress higher up his forehead. "Why do you all look like you're about to rob a bank?"</p>
<p>"I can't afford to get sick, Chambers," Geordie said, his voice muffled by his handkerchief. "I have a family to feed and two murders to solve."</p>
<p>"And I have to take up your slack," Leonard piped up energetically. "I'm your backup, after all."</p>
<p>Geordie turned to address Mrs. C and Leonard. "If you don't mind, folks, I'd like to speak to Sidney for a few minutes in private. I need to update him on a case we're working on together."</p>
<p>"Oh brother," muttered Mrs. C. "Try not to overtire him. We do need our vicar up and on his feet." She looked at Sidney over her shoulder. "I'll be back with your beef broth."</p>
<p>"Mmm," Sidney said for her benefit as she and Leonard were walking out.</p>
<p>Geordie pulled over the chair from his writing table close to the bed, turned it backwards, and straddled it. "You look like death, mate. I bring you out on your first case in months and this happened to you. You're getting old, Chambers."</p>
<p>Sidney ignored his old friend's good-natured ribbing. "How was your talk with Professor Kershaw?"</p>
<p>"No joy. He doesn't have motive. The professor double-checked his translations with another expert of Ancient Languages at Oxford and proved Professor Rutherford right. The man vomited into a rubbish bin when I described what happened to the poor old man."</p>
<p>"Have you tried contacting Judith's boyfriend?"</p>
<p>Geordie nodded grimly. "I called the estate manager at Crevecœur. Peterson is still in Ireland and won't be back until next Tuesday."</p>
<p>Sidney closed his eyes. Lady Susan truly was their only lead at this point. He was hoping they could exhaust other avenues before he had to bring her up.</p>
<p>"How did your talk with the Carmodys go?"</p>
<p>He sat up against his headboard even though it made him lightheaded at first and dropped the face towel in the basin. "The girl was raped, Geordie. By an American tourist in a barn. She's terrified because he said was coming to England and had plans to look her up."</p>
<p>"Jesus," says Geordie with disgust. "She's barely older than Esme."</p>
<p>"Is there anything you can do to help her, Geordie?" Sidney asked even though he knew the answer would be in the negative. They had no tangible evidence on Clothilde's rapist.</p>
<p>Geordie shook his head. "Not unless he actually does come and harass her. Unfortunately, in these cases, it's her word against his and with him being a phantom at the moment, there's nothing we can do. He's just this faceless American tourist. What did she tell you about this bloke?"</p>
<p>"Just that his name is Mike, about twenty years old, from Los Angeles, and has an older brother," Sidney recited, feeling as hollow as his words. "They apparently have a home in London."</p>
<p>"There isn't anything I can do for her at the moment, mate, as much as I want to pulverize the bastard who did this to her. How did the Carmodys react?"</p>
<p>Sidney covered his mouth with his handkerchief as he coughed and had to take a deep breath before he could answer. "It didn't take much to convince Jack. I just had to remind him that Clothilde is still the good daughter he raised and it was out of character for her to just fling herself at the first guy she meets without her parents around. I left it to Jack to break the news to Mrs. Carmody. She..."</p>
<p>Geordie nodded. "Cathy tells me she's always at Swinnerton's, returning merchandise she bought because she was unhappy with them and berating the shopgirls."</p>
<p>Sidney asked him for the packet of paracetamol along with the glass of water on his bedside table. He was developing one hell of a headache. His friend obliged and took the items back once he was finished.</p>
<p>"Really feeling gammy today, eh, buddy?"</p>
<p>"I haven't gotten this sick in a long time. Maybe I had it coming. I just hope I didn't get Lady Susan sick."</p>
<p>Geordie picked up one of his house slippers on the floor and hit him on the leg with it. "Now how did that happen?"</p>
<p>Sidney decided that Geordie didn't need to know that Lady Susan asked him to be her pretend fiance or that she spoke English. He'd broken confidence before in order to help Geordie to solve crimes, but somehow Lady Susan's confessions to him felt sacred. She truly trusted him and said she felt safe with him.</p>
<p>"I don't know, Geordie. I just felt a special connection with her on the day we met. And last night, when she came over..."</p>
<p>Geordie's eyebrows went all the way up. "She came over last night? Way to bury the lede, Chambers!"</p>
<p>Sidney stayed up half the night--coughing and sneezing--considering what he could tell Geordie. "The killer has been sending her some disturbing notes over the post. She wanted to show them to me."</p>
<p>Geordie's forehead wrinkled. "But why to you? Why didn't she go directly to me?"</p>
<p>Sidney raised one eyebrow and didn't say a word.</p>
<p>The inspector threw up his hands. "Oh, for Pete's sake, Chambers! They fall for you like lemmings off a cliff even if they don't understand English! Is it the dreamy eyes or the height and broad shoulders?"</p>
<p>"She just said, through her translators, that she trusted my face and felt safe with me. She sought my protection." </p>
<p>Geordie stared at him, his eyes wide with horror. "So you proposed marriage to her? This isn't the nineteenth century, Sidney. You don't get engaged to a woman after meeting her twice. What, she batted her eyelashes at you and you couldn't help but fall for it? Just please tell me she took off that veil for you."</p>
<p>Sidney couldn't lie to his friend. "No, Geordie, she didn't."</p>
<p>The inspector picked up the slipper from the floor and hit him on the leg once more, harder this time. "What is wrong with you, Chambers? Were you dropped on your head as a child?"</p>
<p>Sidney laid back against his pillows and sighed. He wished Geordie would just go away now, so he could go back to sleep. He was so tired. "Geordie, I can't explain it to you. The heart wants what the heart wants," he said, echoing Leonard's earlier sentiment.</p>
<p>"Is it the heart that's involved or... What am I talking about? You can't even tell what kind of body she's got under the shapeless gowns she wears!"</p>
<p>"Geordie, I will not even dignify that with a response. That's my future wife you're talking about!"</p>
<p>"I don't believe you. You're certifiable, Chambers. God, I need a drink. Let's finish up so I can grab a couple of pints with Will at the Eagle." He blew out his cheeks, then exhaled. "You said something about Lady Susan receiving nasty notes about the killings? Why her?"</p>
<p>Sidney figured he would have to prevaricate a little in order to protect his newly acquired fiancee. "Lady Susan's sister was the writer of the books I've been reading. The murderer is basing the method of killing on the crime scenes in the novels."</p>
<p>Geordie whistled. "How many books are there?"</p>
<p>"Nine. There's a tenth book coming out at the end of the summer."</p>
<p>Geordie mumbled a string of off-colored curses. "Goddamn it, Sidney. And the notes, what do they say?"</p>
<p>Sidney didn't know how much longer he could stay awake. His eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. "There's two of them. One refers to a milkmaid and the other, to a dead professor in a library. The notes are on the coffee table in the front sitting room. I hope they're still there. I told Mrs. C not to touch them because of the fingerprints."</p>
<p>Geordie reached over to ruffle his hair. "Atta boy! You got something right. Stay here. I'll go get them."</p>
<p>Sidney couldn't have moved if he wanted to. His whole body ached so much that he was sure he could feel it to the marrow of his bones.</p>
<p>Geordie was wearing his gloves when he returned, holding the two letters, one in each hand. "Why are they in English?"</p>
<p>"Maybe because the sender thought the recipient would be Lady Sarah, the writer."</p>
<p>"You said these messages were sent by post? If so, were the envelopes addressed to Lady Sarah?"</p>
<p>"I haven't seen the envelopes. Miss Chan didn't think to bring them." He sneezed violently into his handkerchief just in time.</p>
<p>"Jesus, Chambers, you're really in a bad way. I should let you get some rest. I think I'll stop by the Ravenwood Manor and see if I can hustle up the envelopes for these messages."</p>
<p>Sidney was instantly alarmed. He didn't want Lady Susan to deal with Geordie on her own. "Geordie, as a favor to me, do you think you can wait till tomorrow? I think I'll feel better by then. I can go with you to the Manor."</p>
<p>Geordie looked hesitant, so Sidney pressed on. "Please, Geordie, she's my fiancee. I want to be there for her. She needs me, Geordie."</p>
<p>The inspector lowered his head and muttered something Sidney couldn't hear. "This was why I was reluctant to introduce you to her in the first place. Damn you and your women, Sidney! Why do they always fall in love with you?"</p>
<p>He wanted to tell his best friend that for once, the lady wasn't interested and merely sought his protection, but that was part of Lady Susan's confession that he swore to never reveal. "I don't know, Geordie. I'm as flawed as any other man, you know that."</p>
<p>"It's because you listen to them, I think. That's what Cathy says, anyway. You hear them, give them comfort, assure them everything will be all right and they believe you because you look like a bloody archangel."</p>
<p>Sidney snorted. "I don't know about that. But I do listen to everything they have to say and talk to them, Geordie."</p>
<p>"I'm in the middle of two murder investigations, Chambers. I can't be doing personal favors for friends who are personally involved with persons of interest."</p>
<p>"You're the one who said in the beginning that she isn't a person of interest!"</p>
<p>"Well, that's before you told me that the killer is using her sister's books as an instruction manual for the murders!" Geordie narrowed his eyes as he scrutinized him. "Wait, that was how you knew the murders were connected. Because you'd already read the books and recognized the crime scenes. Why didn't you tell me?"</p>
<p>Sidney felt his exasperation growing. "I told you I had a theory in progress, but I didn't have enough evidence yet to back it up."</p>
<p>"Did you know before last night the identity of the author?"</p>
<p>"No! Until Lady Susan told me, I thought the books were written by a man called S.L. Cooper."</p>
<p>Geordie pressed his gloved hand to his head. "This is a bleedin' mess. Who does Lady Susan suspect to be the sender of the notes?"</p>
<p>Again, Sidney hesitated, calculating mentally how much he could reveal. "She thinks it might be a deranged fan of Lady Sarah who is paying homage to the books as a tribute to her."</p>
<p>"But that would mean the fan knows the true identity of the book's author and that she--or rather, Lady Susan, is in Cambridgeshire. She is in danger, Sidney."</p>
<p>He had already considered that, which was why he was cursing himself for being confined to his bed. She had asked for his protection and here he was, an invalid who couldn't do a thing for her. "I know you don't have the manpower right now to spare someone who could look in on her once in a while, which is why I think it's time to get her brother involved."</p>
<p>Geordie sputtered. "I don't want the bloody Scotland Yard mucking about in my town."</p>
<p>"I told Mrs. C that I was going to go to London to see him, anyway. She's convinced that Lady Susan is an impostor because she says the real Lady Susan died in Malaya three years ago according to the newspapers and that's why she won't take off that veil."</p>
<p>"But one of the twins survived, right? Is she saying the woman we know is Lady Sarah?"</p>
<p>Sidney sighed with frustration. "That's the thing. She just believes that the woman is an impostor who just appeared out of nowhere."</p>
<p>Geordie gave him a considering look. "And what do you believe?"</p>
<p>Sidney put his hand over his heart. "I believe she is the sister of the Marquess of Ravenwood and needs our help."</p>
<p>Geordie snorted. "Interesting phrasing." He glanced at the messages in his hand. "When did she receive these?"</p>
<p>"The first one, two days before Judith Myers was found and the second one, the day before Professor Rutherford was killed."</p>
<p>"Judith Myers was already dead when she received the note, then. But for the professor, she had advanced warning. Why didn't she tell us when we visited her that afternoon?"</p>
<p>Sidney didn't know how to answer that. He thought Lady Susan was in the wrong for not revealing the message in time, either. "The note is very vague, Geordie. It could have been any professor in any library." </p>
<p>Geordie nodded slowly. "I guess you're right. We couldn't have gone to Cambridge and told them to bar all the professors from all the libraries." His eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline and his eyes widened. "You said there's a tenth book coming out at the end of the summer? Sidney, please don't tell me there's going to be eight more of these."</p>
<p>Sidney couldn't reassure him. "I'm sorry, Geordie. There are still so many unknown variables. It could be someone from Lady Sarah's past, a devoted fan... who knows, Geordie?"</p>
<p>"I don't like this. I don't like this at all." Geordie had set down the notes on Sidney's writing desk and now had both of his arms perched on the back of the chair he was straddling. "We can't just wait around with our thumbs up our arses until this mad bastard strikes again. We have to do something, Sidney."</p>
<p>"Lady Susan told me she'd let me know as soon as she receives another note, so that at least we can have a heads up next time."</p>
<p>"She told you, eh? You understand Chinese now?"</p>
<p>Sidney sighed. He really had to be careful. "Her translators did."</p>
<p>"Mate, you understand that you'll have to live with these translators because neither of you speak the other's language? People will think the vicarage has turned into a geisha house."</p>
<p>"They're Chinese, not Japanese, Geordie."</p>
<p>His friend looked confused. "And?"</p>
<p>Sidney wished he could reach his house slipper and hit him like the other man had been hitting him. "Geishas are Japanese, Geordie."</p>
<p>Geordie's face cleared. "Oh, I thought both cultures did it."</p>
<p>Sidney wondered why the paracetamol hadn't worked yet. His headache was just getting worse. "No, Geordie, just the Japanese. What do you recommend should be our next step?"</p>
<p>"Well, your first step should be to get better because Will is not as fun to take on cases. He's not as morally flexible as you are." </p>
<p>Sidney scowled. "Will Davenport has been accompanying you on cases?"</p>
<p>"Hey, don't get jealous. You're still my number one guy. But Will provides valuable perspective, though he's a little raw... and a little angrier than you are, actually."</p>
<p>Sidney could believe that. Will's family didn't approve of him becoming a vicar and with the recent death of his father, the younger man had been dealing with a lot. He couldn't begrudge Will of Geordie's company. "You're a good man, Geordie. Thank you for being a friend to Will."</p>
<p>His old friend waved that off. "I was there when Will found his old man dead, Chambers."</p>
<p>He had accompanied the archdeacon to Italy on a conference, so he hadn't been there for Will when all this happened. The archdeacon had been taking him along on conferences and involving him in more church politics for the last year. Sidney had the feeling that he was being groomed to take over the archdeacon's position when he finally retired and didn't know how to feel about it.</p>
<p>"I think we should take Lady Susan to London to see her brother and verify that she is who she says she is," Geordie suggested. "That would be a good start. After all, she is smack dab in the middle of it. It could be anyone under that veil."</p>
<p>Sidney considered this. His instincts had never steered him wrong. He knew in his gut that whoever was under that veil was either Lady Susan or Sarah. He was desperate to help the woman under the veil. He had promised to protect the woman under the veil, whomever she was. "I think you're right, Geordie."</p>
<p>Geordie rose from the chair and returned it the desk before picking up the notes sent to Lady Susan. "All right, Chambers, I'll leave you to rest. We need you back on your feet as soon as possible, soldier." At the door, he turned and added, "You better hope no one dies while you're out of commission."</p>
<p>Once Geordie was gone, Mrs. C marched back in and force-fed him barley in beef broth until he threatened to vomit. She said she threw out the food Lady Susan had brought last night because she didn't trust it. Sidney was annoyed, but didn't have the energy to argue. He'd been looking forward to eating the duck and noodles.</p>
<p>"All right, my boy," said Mrs. C kindly. "You need to rest now. No more interruptions."</p>
<p>Sidney finally fell asleep and had no dreams. He didn't know how long he was out, but when he opened his eyes again, it was pitch-black in his bedroom. He sat up and groped for the lamp at his bedside. He squinted at the sudden brightness in his room. </p>
<p>Sometime during his slumber, he must have kicked off his blankets because they were all on the floor. His fever had broken. He was still feeling a little weak, but his head was less cloudy and he could breathe a little better. He hoped what he had was a twenty-four hour bug and not the flu. He had a lot of work to do.</p>
<p>There were a couple of knocks on his bedroom door and then Leonard suddenly appeared. "I hope you're feeling a little better, Sidney. Miss Lee was just on the phone for you and I told her you couldn't come to the phone because you're very ill. I think she was talking to Lady Susan in the background, but I couldn't understand what they were saying because it was in Chinese, but before I knew it, Miss Lee was back on the phone and she was saying 'We're on our way, Mr. Finch.' And then she hung up before I could say anything."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Sidney in the Sickbed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney has a fever and a bad headcold. His new fiancee Lady Susan visits him and announces that her brother in London, a marquess, wants to meet him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney was relieved that Mrs. C had already left for the day by the time Miss Lee telephoned. The housekeeper was insistent on staying to help take care of Sidney, but Leonard told her she should go home and worry about herself and Jack for once because he was perfectly capable of looking after Sidney. </p>
<p>"Thought you might want a break from her ministrations for the evening," Leonard said archly. "Just don't die under my watch, all right? Or I'll never hear the end of it."</p>
<p>Sidney laughed, though it hurt his throat a little. "I'll try not to, Leonard. When did Miss Lee say they were coming over?"</p>
<p>The curate shrugged. "She just said they were heading right over. How far away is Ravenwood Manor?"</p>
<p>Sidney groaned as he struggled to put on his dressing gown. Leonard had to come along and help him or he would have toppled over. "Thanks," he muttered, embarrassed. "Ravenwood is about ten miles away, near the mouth of the wood, in Cambridgeshire."</p>
<p>Leonard frowned. "Oh, that gothic monstrosity that Daniel and I often pass by when he wants to take nature photos in the wood. He always jokes about it being haunted." He clapped his hands once. "Well, I suppose I should put the kettle on. By the way, I got to taste the noodles and had some of the duck before Mrs. C tossed them out. I was devastated that she did. If I were go to China, I'd come home three times my size. Marry this woman, Sidney, and you'll have to double up on your jogging."</p>
<p>While Leonard was busy in the kitchen, Sidney made his way to the bathroom, though he was a little doubtful of his own legs' stability to get him there. He swayed a little and had to clutch the doorframe of his bedroom door to steady himself for a moment. </p>
<p>He somehow managed to shuffle the few steps down the hall to the bathroom he shared with Leonard and put his hands on either side of the sink to support himself. He had turned on the light but the harshness of it was too much for his eyes, so he had to open them slowly and peek at himself in the mirror. He was in desperate need of a shave, but his hands weren't steady enough. He could at least wash his face and brush his teeth, though.</p>
<p>Having finished his ablutions, he staggered back to his bedroom and stood before the open doors of his wardrobe, his knees shaking with strain. Obviously, he was not going to put on his dog collar and blacks for a social visit, if that was why Lady Susan was coming over. He stared at his row of trousers and shirts for a minute and got dizzy. His trip to the bathroom really took a lot out of him. </p>
<p>He made it back to his bed and sat down to catch his breath. He ended up grabbing his pillow and coughing into it until he was wheezing. He was in no condition to be socializing.</p>
<p>Moments later, he heard a commotion in the front hall and realized that Lady Susan and her entourage had arrived. He knew he should go out there and help Leonard entertain them, but he really didn't have the energy. He placed his palm on his forehead to check if he had a fever, but he didn't feel warmer than usual.</p>
<p>He decided to lie down because it took too much effort to stay upright. The instant his head hit the pillow, he groaned because it felt so good. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Why had he never truly appreciated before how wonderful it was to just be horizontal on a soft mattress? Let Leonard deal with his guests, so he could go back to deep slumber...</p>
<p>The husky, smoky voice that haunted his dreams last night said, "What's up, Padre? Heard from Lenny that you were sick in bed in need of tender, loving care."</p>
<p>Surely he wasn't dreaming already? He'd barely closed his eyes. He must have been more exhausted than he thought.</p>
<p>"Sidney? Are you asleep?"</p>
<p>He liked the way she said his name, with that lovely, sibilant S sound in the beginning. Her voice was like quality whisky, sliding down his throat like silken fire.</p>
<p>The side of his bed dipped as she sat next to him and placed her cool palm on his cheek. "Oh, Padre, you are hot to the touch. Poor <em>bao-bao."</em></p>
<p>Sidney scrambled to sit up, hitting his head on the headboard. She was truly with him, sitting on the bed. With him. "Lady Susan, you're here. What are you doing here?"</p>
<p>She reached behind him and stacked up the pillows, so he could lie back down and be more comfortable. "I heard my betrothed was ill, so I came over as fast as I could." She assisted him as he slid back down into the covers. "I would like it if you called me what my mother named me at birth, Sidney. It's Shun-Lien."</p>
<p>"Shun-Lien," Sidney repeated. <em>Shoon lee-YEN.</em> He finally got a good look at her and noticed that she wasn't wearing black, but royal blue and her veil matched her dress. "You're not in your widow's weeds, my lady."</p>
<p>"This is a <em>cheongsam</em>." With the aid of her cane, she stood up, walked to the middle of the room, and slowly turned around for him so he could see the features of the dress. "It's a traditional dress for Chinese women in Shanghai, Hong Kong, and Beijing."</p>
<p>It was more form-fitting than either of the two gowns he'd seen her in, an ankle-length sheath dress with a high conical collar and long, wide sleeves. The front of the dress had an asymmetrical opening that started from the middle of the collar, then went down diagonally toward her under arm and down the side. The slit was trimmed with black piping and secured with small light blue cloth buttons the shape of flowers. Now that she was in a better light, he could see that the dress was made of silk and embroidered all over with bamboo trees, the thread the same color as the buttons.</p>
<p>"It's magnificent," Sidney breathed. "I love it."</p>
<p>"I told you last night that I don't want to hide in that lonely mansion anymore and I couldn't possibly walk around town, looking like Miss Havisham," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. </p>
<p>"Your veil is a different color, too."</p>
<p>She touched it lightly and flicked at it, as though embarrassed of it. "I have every color to match any outfit I own, <em>Xiān sheng</em>."</p>
<p>He wished she would come back and sit with him on his bed again. It just felt so right having her near him with her palm on his forehead. He tried to forget that this might be a temporary situation.</p>
<p>As though she heard his thoughts, she returned to his side and sat on the bed again. "I brought ginger with me. I'm having Jifei prepare you a ginger and honey tea. It's good for colds. It'll help clear your nasal passages so you can breathe better."</p>
<p>Even though he loathed for her to leave him, he suddenly worried about her welfare. "You shouldn't stay here too long with me. I don't want you to get sick."</p>
<p>"Germs don't scare me, <em>xiān sheng</em>." She pushed his hair out of his face. "Who else would take care of you but your adoring fiancee?"</p>
<p>"Who else, indeed?" Sidney smiled up at her and wished she'd take off her ridiculous veil. This one was not as opaque as the black one she usually wore and he could almost discern her face. "Why are you really here, Shun-Lien? Did you receive another message?"</p>
<p>She shook her head. "Our groundskeeper Mr. Mackey thought he saw someone sneaking about the property. His son Young Bobby said he someone last week as well."</p>
<p>Sidney frowned. "Did they see what the person looked like?"</p>
<p>"No, not really. Just your usual shadowy figure in dark clothing, looking suspicious."</p>
<p>Sidney stroked her arm through the sleeve of her dress. "You are in grave danger, Soo-Lin. I cannot protect you right now since I'm abed with this infernal cold."</p>
<p>"My lady?" a voice said softly from the door.</p>
<p>Instead of answering him, Shun-Lien looked over her shoulder to acknowledge Miss Lee. <em>"Nǐ hǎo jiěmèi. Jiāng nín de tuōpán fàng zài zhèlǐ. Xièxiè."</em></p>
<p>Miss Lee bowed and entered the room, avoiding looking at Sidney. She placed the tray with a teapot and two cups on it on his writing table, then went up to his nightstand to pick up the basin filled with water and the face towel in it. She bowed again before leaving. When she returned, she placed the tray on the nightstand.</p>
<p><em>"Xièxiè</em>, Miss Lee," Sidney told her.</p>
<p>"Think nothing of it, Mr. Chambers," she replied with a quick smile. She bowed to them before leaving the room again.</p>
<p>Sidney could smell the strong, pungent aroma of ginger and it made his eyes water. He hadn't had it since he left Africa many years ago. He remembered liking it because it gave dishes a pleasant zest and sting that English food sometimes lacked. He'd also had it as a nice tisane as a remedy for a stomachache.</p>
<p>His fiancee poured him a cup and offered it to him. "It's ginger boiled in water and sweetened with honey. Best to drink it while it's still hot."</p>
<p>"I've had it before when I lived in Egypt briefly," Sidney informed her.</p>
<p>Shun-Lien held the cup while he carefully sat up and plumped up the pillows behind him. "You lived in Egypt? How interesting. What were you doing there?"</p>
<p>"After seminary, I moved there for a bit on a mission. Got to know the people, helped organize a school for the children, helped build a church, fixed up the houses of some villagers." He took the cup from her and slowly sipped the concoction. "I was an officer in the Scots Guard during the war. After Germany, my troop was sent to Northern Africa for clean-up duty. I told myself I'd return someday and help restore what the war took away."</p>
<p>"You are kind and noble of heart, <em>Xiān sheng</em> Chambers. I've never met anyone like you."</p>
<p>He laughed and shook his head. "I have my faults, trust me. I smoke too much, I drink too much. And according to my housekeeper, I listen to the devil's music."</p>
<p>"Elvis Presley?"</p>
<p>Sidney grinned. "Worse. Sidney Bechet."</p>
<p>"But the man is a genius. I saw him in Paris at a jazz fair years ago. He was magnificent. I have some of his early recordings from the 20s, you know, if you'd care to listen to them sometime."</p>
<p>Sidney thought he had to be dreaming. Here was a woman who was as passionate about jazz as he was. "Are you joking? I'd love to!"</p>
<p>"Have you ever tried John Coltrane? His stuff is a little more experimental, but his work on the saxophone would just bring tears to your eyes."</p>
<p>Sidney wanted to haul her up against him and kiss her until they were both breathless, but he didn't want to get her sick. "I have heard a couple of tracks at a library in Cambridge, but I haven't had a chance to buy a record for myself." He didn't want to tell her that he'd been basically a hermit all winter.</p>
<p>"Oh, well, you can come over to the manor anytime and listen to them all you want."</p>
<p>Sidney chuckled. "You have a treasure trove of quality scotch and a collection of jazz records? You might just regret issuing that invitation, my lady. You'd never be rid of me."</p>
<p>She tapped the tip of his nose with one gloved finger. "And maybe that's been my plan all along, <em>tián xīn</em>."</p>
<p>He seized her wrist and held her hand against his chest. "Shun-Lien, I am worried about you. Somebody might be following you around and watching you, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Don't you think it's time to involve your brother? He must have more resources at his disposal than I do."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien yanked her hand back and joined it with the other to place on her lap. "You don't know Jordan. He is very protective and domineering. If it were up to him, I'd be locked up in the tower of our family home in Northern Yorkshire and he'd throw away the key. Mr. Butler isn't just my majordomo. He is a bodyguard sent by my brother to watch over me and protect me."</p>
<p>All Sidney wanted was to keep her safe and if that meant she had to be locked up in a tower in Northern Yorkshire, that sounded just fine to him. "Shun-Lien, if we are to continue this engagement, I'd like to meet your family."</p>
<p>"You've already met Jifei. Now that Sarah is gone, she is like a sister to me. She is the daughter of my mother's younger sister."</p>
<p>Sidney sighed. "I mean a senior member of your family, Shun-Lien. Now that your father is gone, that would be your brother. I'd like to speak with your aunt, too."</p>
<p>She lowered her head. "I have a step-mother also. We've never gotten along. She's terrible."</p>
<p>He wondered if it were his step-mother who'd stolen from her. "Shun-Lien, are you aware that you have two fake paintings hanging in your gallery?"</p>
<p>She nodded. "The Rembrandt and the Waterhouse. Mr. Butler told me. I have a Van Gogh missing, too. I suspect it's my half-brother, Ryan. He has gambling debts he can't pay because Jordan has him on a strict allowance schedule. He didn't even bother replacing the Van Gogh with a fake. I suppose it all happened before I arrived at Ravenwood. He and Zöe contact me wherever I am whenever their allowances run short, which is every month, to wire them extra money."</p>
<p>Sidney was outraged on her behalf. "Why you?"</p>
<p>"I told you my brother is strict. He thinks they're a couple of spoiled brats. He's in control of their trusts until they turn thirty five. Ryan is twenty-two now and Zöe is twenty-five, I believe. I received my portion from my father when I turned twenty one and my mother's will left everything to me and my twin. When Soo-Lin died..." She paused here and took a deep breath before continuing. "I didn't realize that Soo-Lin had made a will before she died and left everything to me. In short, I'm a very wealthy woman."</p>
<p>Sidney swallowed bitterly. She was further beyond his reach than Amanda ever was. If they were to actually go through with the marriage, would she be content as a vicar's wife? "So your half-siblings take advantage of you?"</p>
<p>She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "I'm worth millions of pounds, Padre. What am I to do with the money? I haven't a husband nor children. The money is just making more money for me by sitting in a bank in London and other offshore banks."</p>
<p>Sidney goggled, though he hoped his dismay did not show on his face. There was a flash of sparkle as she adjusted her veil and he realized she was wearing his grandmother's ring. "Shun-Lien, it would really mean a lot to me if I could meet your family. Who knows, it might expose me to a wider range of suspects."</p>
<p>She took his hand and sandwiched it between her own. "What, you think the killer might be my evil step-mother? That's just bad writing, Padre. Shame on you."</p>
<p>Sidney laughed. "We have to consider all possibilities."</p>
<p>It took her a moment, but she gave in and nodded. "All right, we'll go by your playbook. However, I have to warn you: we're not exactly a happy family."</p>
<p>"All families have some kind of dysfunction."</p>
<p>"Not like mine."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next night, she visited again, but she had Miss Chan call first to check if Mrs. Chapman had already left for the day. Shun-Lien was convinced that Mrs. C hated her, but Sidney told her that his housekeeper hated everyone equally at first.</p>
<p>Misses Chan and Lee brought over a mahjong set, a game which they intended to teach Leonard so they could have something to do while their lady spent time with her fiance. They even got Mr. Butler to play along.</p>
<p>Tonight Shun-Lien was wearing a green cheongsam similar in design to the royal blue one she wore the previous night except the buttons, piping, and embroidery thread were in gold. Her veil was also green. When she sat next to him in bed, Sidney caught a whiff of jasmine, lemons, and sunshine. How could she smell like that when it was still the dead of winter outside?</p>
<p>At least he was confident of his own appearance today. He had strength enough that he actually managed a bath without falling asleep in the tub and catching his death from pneumonia. He was able to comb his hair and brush his teeth. Leonard had to help him with the shaving because his hands still weren't steady enough. Best of all, he managed to get out of his pajamas and dressing gown to put on a nice pair of trousers and his favorite maroon shirt, which thankfully was clean and freshly pressed. Thank God for Mrs. C.</p>
<p>He met his guests at the door along with Leonard and Misses Lee and Chan came in with their furs and hats, while Lady Susan entered the vicarage in her simple, understated black coat and multi-colored scarves. Mr. Butler brought up the rear, carrying a parcel that smelled like food, which made Leonard happy. He closed the door behind him.</p>
<p>Leonard helped collect the coats, purses, hats, and scarves with Sidney and hauled them all to the study. </p>
<p>"What small animal do you think died for this?" Leonard held up Miss Chan's hat.</p>
<p>Sidney chuckled. "A mink, most likely." </p>
<p>Leonard shuddered and dropped it on the pile. "They look fabulous, but I could never wear it."</p>
<p>Soon, Sidney was taken aside by his fiancee, who was shaking her head. In a whisper, so Leonard wouldn't hear her, she said, "Why are you out of bed? You're still sick. Come on, let's get you back in your room."</p>
<p>He was thrilled to be alone with her again, even though the circumstances were not ideal. It was one thing if they were going to his room to be alone together, but quite another that she thought him an invalid who shouldn't be on his feet. </p>
<p>When they got back to his bedroom, she insisted that he change into his pajamas. He told them they were in the bureau. She opened a drawer, pulled them out, and pushed them at him. </p>
<p>"Go on," she said. "I won't look." She turned her back and faced the window.</p>
<p>Sidney sighed and closed the door. Here he was, about to get naked in front of a woman who was to be his wife--maybe--and she wasn't the least bit interested in looking. He removed his trousers and shirt, then draped them neatly over the backseat of the chair by his writing desk. He quickly put on his paisley pajamas, a gift from his mum one Christmas. </p>
<p>"Ready."</p>
<p>She turned around and her head went up and down as if she were surveying him. "I like those. Very stylish. Get back in bed. You're no use to me dead."</p>
<p>Sidney was surprised by the change in her tone, as she seemed almost flirtatious the night before, like a real fiancee. Well, she was a real fiancee. But he harbored hopes that she might have feelings for him and actually want to get married. Still, he did as she asked because he didn't want to unduly upset her and drive her away.</p>
<p>"What's the matter, Shun-Lien? You seem anxious."</p>
<p>With the help of her cane, she made it to his bed and sat by his side. "My brother has summoned me to go to London immediately. I suppose Mr. Butler told him about my engagement. I'm not surprised that he did. I'm not even upset with him. Jordan pays his salary."</p>
<p>Well, Sidney thought, that took care of that. "Your brother is taking a personal interest in you. What's the problem with that?"</p>
<p>Her arms were folded tightly under her breasts. "I've told you that my brother is domineering. Whenever he and I are together, we always clash because he wants to control every aspect of my life. It wasn't as bad when Soo-Lin was alive because at least there were two of us, but now it's just me. You'd think he'd be too busy with police work to bother with me. Somehow, wherever I am, he finds me and annoys me."</p>
<p>"Your brother doesn't have children of his own to look after?"</p>
<p>Shun-Lien scoffed. "He'd have to find a wife first. He said he's married to the job, whatever that means."</p>
<p>Sidney smiled. Mrs. C said that about him. He was married to the job, so he couldn't look up and find himself a wife. "Maybe once I tell your brother that I'll be taking care of you from now on, he'll take it easy on you."</p>
<p>Even through the veil, he could tell she was surprised. "But why would you tell him that?"</p>
<p>Sidney chuckled. "Don't you know how this works? You agreed to become my wife. As your husband, I'm honor-bound to protect you and care for you. That is what a husband does."</p>
<p>"Oh." She laughed with a hint of shyness. "I wouldn't know. I've never experienced it. That is, I wasn't married to Andrew long enough to really feel like a wife."</p>
<p>She turned away from him and Sidney noticed that her posture straightened a little. He thought she was starting to get comfortable with him again. "Shun-Lien, were you a happy child?"</p>
<p>"Oh, yes. Soo-Lin and I were inseparable and we went everywhere together. My maternal grandfather had a vast estate and we had many cousins to play with. It was wonderful. My mother and Aunt Gemma were gone a lot, schmoozing with Shanghai society, so we were stuck with our nannies, but we didn't mind."</p>
<p>Sidney wondered if she and her twin were portrayed in the colorful tapestry that hung on the wall of the manor. "Your father's sister chose to go with your mother when she left your father?"</p>
<p>Shun-Lien shrugged. "They were similar in age and very good friends. Aunt Gemma never really got along with my father and Aunt Bea. I think they were glad to see to see her go. She was kind of a troublemaker."</p>
<p>Sidney knew that whatever lies she may tell him now, her stories about her youth were the truth. From them, he could piece together the person she truly was. "Are you close to your Aunt Gemma?"</p>
<p>"I'm very fond of her, but I've always known Soo-Lin was her favorite. Aunt Gemma never had children of her own, so she always focused her love on the two of us."</p>
<p>Sidney also noticed that she'd dropped the Susan and Sarah names, asking him to refer to her as "Shun-Lien," what her mother named her at birth. "Soo-Lin," he assumed, was Sarah. He thought the name suited her better. It was softer and more elegant.</p>
<p>"I've figured out how we can converse in public, without Jifei and Jing-Mei hanging around us all the time. <em>Parlez-vous français, vicaire?</em> It's the other language in fluent in."</p>
<p>Sidney chuckled.<em> "Mon français est meilleur que mon allemand.</em> Which is to say, if I managed to get around Germany with the little bit of German that I know, I'll do a hell of a lot better in Paris."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Sidney Goes to London</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney takes Lady Susan to London at the behest of her older brother, the Marquess of Ravenwood. There, Sidney finds out more about the intriguing woman; to his surprise, the more time he spends with her, the more mysterious and elusive she becomes to him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before leaving for London, Sidney informed Archdeacon Atubo that he would be gone for two to three days because he was going to the city to meet the family of his fiancee. The Archdeacon was as pleased as Punch upon hearing this news and insisted on meeting the young lady upon their return from London. He, of course, asked who the young lady was and if she came from a good family.</p>
<p>Since Atubo was his superior and he couldn't exactly lie to him--lying was a mortal sin anyway--Sidney told him. "It's Lady Susan Fenwick, the daughter of the late Marquess of Ravenwood. Her brother is the current marquess."</p>
<p>The Archdeacon brought up Sidney's most singular worry. "Will she be satisfied as a vicar's wife? You can't exactly move to a grander house. The vicar must stay in the vicarage."</p>
<p>"I realize that, sir. It's something we haven't discussed yet. I just proposed to her three nights ago."</p>
<p>"Mr. Chambers, didn't the young lady move into town just a month ago? You work quickly."</p>
<p>"Erm... it was a whirlwind courtship, sir. From the moment we saw each other, we just knew."</p>
<p>At least that was the case for him. He was aware that he was a curiosity for her, but if that was the extent of it, he wasn't sure.</p>
<p>"Be careful, Mr. Chambers. Make sure she is the right one before you take her down the aisle. Always remember: measure twice, cut once."</p>
<p>He also talked to Will Davenport and asked him to look in on Leonard and Mrs. C while he was gone. The younger priest said he was always happy to help and could even take in a service, if Leonard needed him to.</p>
<p>Then he remembered Elsie Myers. He had promised to do the memorial service for her daughter Judith this weekend, but he was already in the passenger seat of a white 1955 Rolls Royce Silver Dream on its way to London. His intended, along with Misses Lee and Chan were in the back seat. As soon as he saw a public phone, he implored Mr. Butler to stop, so he could call Leonard, then Will. He apologized to everyone in the car for the delay, but as soon as the car stopped, he flung open the door and raced toward the phone box. He dialed the vicarage first and was relieved to reach Leonard.</p>
<p>"Leonard, I'm so sorry to foist this on you last minute, but I scheduled a memorial this weekend, yet I won't be there. Please don't hate me. I need you to go to Elsie Myers' house and make the final arrangements."</p>
<p>"Sidney, I've never done a memorial service before."</p>
<p>"Will has. I'll ask Will to do it, if you want me to. But someone has to go to Mrs. Myers' house and make the final arrangements with her. It completely slipped my mind."</p>
<p>"Yes, please ask Will. I'd rather do the administrative part. Erm, what about the body, Sidney?"</p>
<p>"Still in the morgue. We have to wait till spring to bury her when the ground thaws. The deceased is Judith Myers, Leonard, the girl who was found in the well in that dairy farm."</p>
<p>"Oh, heavens. I will do my best to comfort Mrs. Myers, Sidney, and help her through this difficult time. You can count on me."</p>
<p>Sidney heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you, brother. And don't charge her or anything, okay? Make sure Mrs. C knows that. In the bottom left drawer of my desk in the study, there's an old cigar box with cash in it. Take as much as you need to pay for the flowers, the organist, and the food. I don't want Mrs. Myers to worry about anything."</p>
<p>"You got it, Sidney. Good luck meeting the in-laws. Will and I will hold down the fort."</p>
<p>The next person he called was Will, who was eager to take in the memorial service and help out Leonard with whatever else came up. The young buck was really chomping at the bit for his own parish.</p>
<p>As he was about to walk back to the car, he remembered Geordie. He groaned and rushed back to the phone box. He wasn't at home anymore, but luckily, he was at his desk at the nick. "Geordie!"</p>
<p>"Sidney, what's going on? Are you really on your way to London?"</p>
<p>"Yes. Lady Susan received summons from the marquess. He'd heard about the engagement."</p>
<p>"Hope you brought your fanciest suits, vicar. You're about to face London high society. I guess you'll finally find out for sure if she's real or not."</p>
<p>"She's real, Geordie."</p>
<p>"Be careful, Sidney. Don't get too attached to her."</p>
<p>Sidney disconnected the call and returned to the car. He settled in the passenger seat once more and took a moment to catch his breath. Shun-Lien indicated to Mr. Butler to get going by knocking on the roof.</p>
<p>"Sidney," she said softly. <em>"Çava?"</em></p>
<p>He turned in his seat so he could see her. She was sitting behind Mr. Butler. <em>"Çava. J'ai oublié de dire quelque chose à Leonard.  Ajustement de dernière minute aux plans."</em></p>
<p><em>"Vraiment? C'est tout?"</em> she asked, her voice tinged with concern.</p>
<p><em>"C'est tout,"</em> he reassured her with a smile. He wanted to reach over and give her his hand, but there was no way to do it without also touching Miss Lee. <em>"Et toi, ma chère?  Á quoi penses-tu?"</em></p>
<p>He asked her what she was thinking because she'd been so quiet ever since the lot of them picked him up from the vicarage this morning. Even Misses Lee and  Chan weren't saying anything.</p>
<p>Today, she looked especially staid. She was dressed in a black long-sleeved cheongsam, but the buttons, piping, and embroidery thread were in gold. The veil she had on was black, but it was a lot shorter than usual. The ones she'd worn the few times he'd seen her hung down almost to her chest.  This one went down an inch or two past her chin and looked attached to the pill-box hat on her head.</p>
<p>Her black hair, which she usually kept in a long braid that hung along her back, was confined in a thick chignon at the base of her neck. Pearls decorated her ears. In the brightness of daylight, he could discern even with the black veil that she wore bright red lipstick. Her engagement ring sparkled on her ring finger. She wore no gloves today.</p>
<p>"I'm just nervous," she replied in French. "I haven't seen my brother in quite some time. I always seem to revert to the scared, timid girl I used to be when I'm with him."</p>
<p>"Well, I'll be by your side this time and it takes a lot to scare me."</p>
<p>She laughed softly. "I do believe that about you, Sidney Chambers."</p>
<p>"Why don't you try taking a nap or something? Mr. Butler said it should be another hour before we reach city proper, barring traffic."</p>
<p>She shook her head. "I'm too nervous. Did you bring your vicar clothes just in case my brother asks for proof of your vocation?"</p>
<p>Sidney chuckled. "I can recite entire passages from the Bible, my lady. But yes, I brought my blacks and dog collar. Everyone loves a vicar at the dinner table."</p>
<p>Having assured himself that she was all right for the moment, Sidney faced the front of the car and sighed. Her brother's house was in Knightsbridge, while her step-mother lived in Belgravia. Security shouldn't be a problem in either of those neighborhoods for they were occupied by the highly affluent and these areas were regularly patrolled by the police.</p>
<p>He didn't worry that another murder would occur while he was away from Grantchester. He was convinced that the killings were a sick homage to the writer of the novels and a note preceded both murders. Shun-Lien promised she hadn't received anymore communication from her morbid admirer. He'd also checked with Misses Lee and Chan and they only confirmed what their lady told him.</p>
<p>The thirteenth Marquess of Ravenwood lived in a Georgian mansion built in the 18th century. It was recently modernized and fully restored, both exterior and interior, due to age and the damage incurred during the war. According to his fiancee, the house had four stories, ten bedrooms, a garden terrace, a solarium, and a rooftop patio. Her brother had a live-in housekeeper, a maid, and a butler. Two other girls came in twice a month to help maintain the house and a gardener weekly for the plants.</p>
<p>Sidney wasn't intimidated by the grandeur of the home. Amanda's father was a very wealthy man and Sidney had visited both his London and Cambridge houses.</p>
<p>He exited the car and opened the door for Shun-Lien, offering his hand to help her out. Normally, she refused his help, but this time, she took it and allowed him to guide her out. Instead of using her cane, she slipped her arm through the crook of his elbow and together, they went up the small flight of stairs to the front door.</p>
<p>She raised her hand with one finger extended to press the doorbell, but hesitated and dropped her hand back to her side.</p>
<p>"Are you all right?" Sidney asked her in English. "Do you want me to press the doorbell?"</p>
<p>She released a breathy laugh. "I'm being so silly, Padre. It's just my brother I'm meeting, not the Queen herself."</p>
<p>Sidney put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a side squeeze. She stiffened for a moment, but quickly relaxed in his hold. "Wouldn't your brother be at work?"</p>
<p>She shook her head. "He took a couple of days off because I'm in town. Anyway, if he isn't home, Aunt Gemma is bound to be. She never rises before noon."</p>
<p>"I'll ring the doorbell, then, shall I?" Sidney didn't wait for her response. He pressed the buzzer.</p>
<p>Not even half a minute passed when the red door opened and a tall, slender man in his late fifties, dressed in a neat black suit and a black tie, greeted them. "Yes?" He surveyed Sidney from head to toe.</p>
<p>Shun-Lien stepped in front of Sidney. "It's me, Stadler."</p>
<p>Surprise replaced the man's previously blank expression. "Lady Shun-Lien. Of course. My lord told me to expect you and your guests." He opened the door wider to allow them inside. "Please, come in, come in. I'll have Higgins prepare your refreshments and serve them in the drawing room. Or if you'd like, I can show you all to your rooms. They've been made ready for you."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Stadler," Shun-Lien said, patting the butler's arm. "It's nice to see a familiar face."</p>
<p>"You're looking well, my lady," Stadler said. "I was sorry to hear about what happened to... That is, erm..."</p>
<p>"Don't worry about it, Stadler. And thank you. I appreciate that."</p>
<p>Sidney noticed that Shun-Lien now spoke with a posh British accent, as though she were the one who attended Lady Matilda's College. He looked down at his mysterious fiancee. Who was this woman? "I'm going back outside to help Mr. Butler with the bags," he told his fiancee.</p>
<p>"Oh no, sir," Stadler said, horrified. "That's my job. You're a guest here."</p>
<p>Sidney smiled at the older man. "I don't mind."</p>
<p>Stadler held up his hands as though to fend him off. "Please, sir, don't."</p>
<p>"It's in his nature, Stadler," Shun-Lien said with a laugh. "By the way, this is Canon Sidney Chambers, my fiance. We're engaged."</p>
<p>Sidney extended his hand to the butler and the man regarded it as though it were a snake. It occurred to him that one did not regularly shake hands with servants, but he was not nobility or gentry. He was a working man. He kept his hand out until the other man took and shook it.</p>
<p>"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stadler," he said, releasing the man's hand because he looked truly uncomfortable.</p>
<p>"Likewise, sir. And it's just Stadler, sir." The butler dropped his gaze to his shoes, abashed. "I'll just go and help Mr. Young with the bags. If you would wait here a moment, my lady, I'll have Higgins direct you to the drawing room."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien reached out and touched the man's elbow. "Don't be silly, Stadler. I know where everything is. Did you put me in the pink suite?"</p>
<p>The butler cleared his throat. "Lady Zöe is currently occupying it, my lady. She's staying here at the moment. I've given you the mermaid suite, my lady. Let me know if it is not to your liking."</p>
<p>"And the suite here downstairs?"</p>
<p>The butler looked embarrassed again. "Naturally, that is where the master stays, my lady, because it is secluded from the rest of the house."</p>
<p>"The mermaid suite is fine, then, Stadler. Thank you. Have my bags sent up there."</p>
<p>"Lady Gemma thought it best to put you in a suite on the second floor. We also have an elevator now, my lady, so you wouldn't have to use the stairs."</p>
<p>"Thank you, Stadler."</p>
<p>Sidney sensed her dejection. Her shoulders slumped and she seemed to have withdrawn deeper into herself. "What's wrong, Shun-Lien? Are you all right?"</p>
<p>She raised her head and because of the daylight through the open door, he was able to see her smile. "I'm fine, Padre. I'm just a little overwhelmed. The yellow suite was my sister's, while the pink is mine. They are right next door to each other, you see. Oh, it doesn't matter. I haven't stayed here in a while. I suppose I've lost my claim to it."</p>
<p>Sidney placed his hand on her lower back. "Not if it's your home, Shun-Lien. Look, we were in car for two hours. Let's sit down and have something to drink."</p>
<p>"Yes, my lady, you must be tired," said Miss Chan in English, coming up behind him. "Why don't we go to the drawing room and I'll alert Higgins of our arrival."</p>
<p>Sidney put his arm around Shun-Lien and she immediately leaned into him, waving off the cane that Miss Lee tried to give her. "I'll walk with her to the drawing room, Miss Lee. Thank you."</p>
<p>Miss Lee bowed. "Right this way, Mr. Chambers. Follow me."</p>
<p>The drawing room was to the left of the staircase that led to the upper rooms, next to the front sitting room, which was right off the grand foyer. Misses Lee and Chan opened the glass French doors all the way and pushed them against the wall.</p>
<p>Sidney was expecting the room to be filled with antiques and old Victorian overstuffed sofas, but it was surprisingly bright and modern. Besides the grand piano in the corner, everything else looked sleek and new... or at least invented in this century, anyway. In the middle of the room, gathered around the fireplace in the far wall, were two black leather sofas with a glass and chrome coffee table between them. Sidney sat Shun-Lien down by the fireplace as he took a quick look around.</p>
<p>On one side of the room was a billiards table and an actual mini-bar in one corner. On the other side, the one with the piano, were a couple of armchairs and two chaise longues. A crystal chandelier hung high in the ceiling between the two leather sofas, so there was plenty of light. Another lamp hung above the billiards table. On the other side of the room, there were two standing Tiffany lamps: one by the grand piano and another by an armchair.</p>
<p>On the walls were framed modern art. He recognized a Picasso and a Pollock. Booze, billiards, music, comfortable seating.This room was designed for entertaining.</p>
<p>He returned to Shun-Lien's side, sitting next to her on the couch. "Why did Stadler refer to Mr. Butler as Mr. Young?"</p>
<p>"Huh?" She'd been staring at the fire, seemingly in a trance. "Oh, that's his real name. Young Liu Wei. His anglicized name is Louis. He told us to call him Mr. Butler, so we do."</p>
<p>Maybe he was coming on too strong and she was getting wary of him. He should keep his hands to himself for a while. She was already overwhelmed with all feelings of having to come back to her childhood home. She didn't need him adding to her stress.</p>
<p>"Shun-Lien, there you are! What is that ghastly thing on your head? Take it off this instant."</p>
<p>A statuesque middle-aged woman was standing at the doorway of the drawing room, her hands on her hips. She was dressed in neatly-tailored herringbone skirt suit and her platinum blonde curls were piled on top of her head in a fashionable updo that emphasized her striking, angular face. She had diamonds on her ears, around her throat, and the gold watch she wore around her slender wrist sparkled with them, too.</p>
<p>Sidney immediately stood and bowed before her. "Ma'am."</p>
<p>"Who are you?" the woman asked with arched brows.</p>
<p>"Auntie Gemma, this is Canon Sidney Chambers, my intended," Shun-Lien said in her clear, posh voice. She stood alongside him. "Mr. Chambers, this is my aunt, Lady Gemma Wong."</p>
<p>"Your intended?" Lady Gemma scanned Sidney from head to toe. "Ravenwood told me you were engaged. I refused to believe it. And a vicar, no less? I didn't know they made vicars who looked like this."</p>
<p>Sidney resisted the urge to mess with his hair or stick his hands in his trousers pockets. Being under scrutiny never failed to make him uncomfortable.</p>
<p>"Aunt Gemma..." Shun-Lien took Sidney's hand in her own and joined her fingers with his. "Aren't you going to congratulate us?"</p>
<p>"Not until you take off your silly hat."</p>
<p>Sidney felt the shudder that went through Shun-Lien's body. She released his hand and began to pull hairpins that secured her hat, dropping them on the glass table. They went plink-plink-plink.</p>
<p>"Help me, Sidney," she muttered through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>He turned to her and searched the top of her head for the pins that kept the hat on, pulling them out until all of them were gone. He didn't realize until now that he'd been holding his breath and his hands were trembling. He was going to see her face.</p>
<p>He watched as she slowly lifted the pill-box hat from her head and the veil along with it. She tossed it on the glass table along with pins. A lock of thick black hair escaped her chignon, cascading down to cover the side of her face closest to him, but she was finally without a veil at last.</p>
<p>"You ridiculous girl," chided her aunt. "Why do persist on hiding your beautiful face when you look just like your mother, my dearest friend in the whole world?"</p>
<p>Lady Gemma went around the other side of the table, bypassing Sidney, and threw her arms around Shun-Lien. "My dear girl, look at you. You're so thin and pale." She pulled back and put her hands on her niece's cheeks. "You haven't been sleeping, have you? I knew I shouldn't have left you rattling around in that creepy old mansion by yourself. I leave for a week and you get engaged to a stranger?"</p>
<p>"He's not a stranger, Aunt Gemma," Shun-Lien protested. "He's the vicar of Grantchester and a very kind, honorable man."</p>
<p>"Grantchester? Oh, yes, that cute little hamlet that Mother adored and left a trust for." Lady Gemma went on speaking as though Sidney weren't in the room. "There was that tiny, horrid chapel that she used to drag me, Bea, and Marcus to every Sunday morning. I always told myself that when I grew up, I was going to have it demolished."</p>
<p>"Auntie!" Shun-Lien gasped, sounding utterly mortified. "Don't be horrid, that's Sidney's chapel."</p>
<p>"I've never known you to be religious, Susan," Lady Gemma said mockingly. "Did Canon Chambers make you see God?"</p>
<p>Sidney's face burned. He recognized the sexual innuendo even if Shun-Lien didn't. The woman was obviously fond of her niece, but he couldn't understand why she would also torment Shun-Lien in this manner. His fiancee sought his hand again and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.</p>
<p>"Not yet," Shun-Lien replied, lifting her chin. "But he is helping me learn that there is still good in the world and not all men are inherently bastards."</p>
<p>Lady Gemma laughed gaily. "Oh, Susan, you are your mother's daughter more than your sister ever was. I realize that now." She pushed her niece's hair out of her face and kissed both of her cheeks. "I adore you so very much."</p>
<p>And that was when Sidney truly saw her profile for the first time. Her nose was a bit longer than he originally thought, but not by much and it had that round tip. She had a high cheekbones, full lips, and a sharp, stubborn chin. Then he understood why she wore the veil. From her temple to her ear, she had burn scars. When she saw him looking, she unhooked the lock of hair her aunt had tucked behind her ear and hid behind its glorious thickness again.</p>
<p>He wanted to assure her that the scars didn't turn him off and she was beautiful to him, but they weren't alone. If they were, he would stroke her face, kiss her scars, and tell her how much she'd come to mean to him during their short acquaintanceship. As soon as her aunt let her go and stepped away, she clung to him as though he were a life preserver. He patted the cold, clammy hand resting in the crook of his elbow as they both sat back down.</p>
<p>"I don't know why I'm suddenly so cold, Padre," she whispered in French, nestling into his side.</p>
<p>He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, lowering his head to kiss her hair. He told her he'd take care of her. <em>"Tout </em><em>va</em><em> bien, mon amour. Dorénavant je m'occuperai de toi."</em></p>
<p>Lady Gemma, who had since sat across the two of them on the other sofa, stared at Sidney once more. "You speak French, Canon Chambers. Impressive."</p>
<p>"He graduated with honors from Cambridge, Aunt Gemma, before he went to seminary. He attended Corpus, just like Lingshan did," Shun-Lien said in defense of him. "He's also well-traveled. On top of that, he's a decorated war veteran. He served in the Scots Guard."</p>
<p>Lady Gemma shook her head, seemingly amazed. "Oh, my. Handsome, honorable, educated, and a hero. He has much in common with your brother."</p>
<p>To Sidney's relief, a woman he presumed to be Higgins came into drawing room, pushing a cart that contained a tea service and a multi-tiered tray. He gathered all the hairpins from the table and swept them into the pill-box hat. Shun-Lien took the hat from him and set it on the carpet, next to her feet.</p>
<p>"Thank you, sir." Higgins smiled shyly at him. With the table cleared, she was free to set down the tea service and multi-tiered tray which contained finger sandwiches and small cakes on top. She also included small plates and napkins.</p>
<p>"We'll serve ourselves, Higgins," Lady Gemma said curtly. "You may go."</p>
<p>Sidney noticed that the housekeeper had been staring at Shun-Lien as though entranced. Upon her hearing her dismissal, she bobbed and left with her cart.</p>
<p>"Where is my brother?" Shun-Lien blurted, surprising her aunt who was busy pouring tea for all of them.</p>
<p>"Oh, I don't know. He probably went out to run errands or something. You know how he hates sitting around the house."</p>
<p>It wasn't long before a young woman in her early twenties with shoulder-length brown hair and wide green eyes joined them in the drawing room. She wore a purple dress with a tight bodice that had a low neckline, capped sleeves, and a full skirt that swished when she moved. She was an attractive woman and knew it. She eyed Sidney with interest, her full mouth curling into a smirk.</p>
<p>"Aunt Gemma, who is your interesting guest?" she asked in a voice that sounded way too mature for someone her age.</p>
<p>Sidney stood up and bowed.</p>
<p>Lady Gemma's eyes, it seemed to him, flickered with wicked intent. "Oh, Zöe, up at noon? Delightful. This is Canon Sidney Chambers, he is a vicar from Granchester."</p>
<p>Lady Zöe's eyes lit up. "A vicar? Oh, that's marvelous!"</p>
<p>"...and surely you must say hello to his fiancee, your sister."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Importance of Good Manners</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney meets Lady Susan's aunt Lady Gemma and younger sister, Lady Zoe. He recognizes right away that the two siblings aren't exactly fond of each other. He also meets Lady Susan's brother, the Chief Detective Inspector of the London Metropolitan Police, and the current Marquess of Ravenwood.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lady Zöe did not even blink. "My sister? Susan or Sarah? I forget which one died." She wiggled her fingers dismissively in the air and focused her attention on the coffee table. "Oh, food! Marvelous. Jordan's awful chef wouldn't whip me up breakfast because he said I woke up too late. Impudent frog." She grabbed a small plate and began to pile it up with sandwiches and cakes.</p><p>Lady Gemma raised one eyebrow. "Our guests haven't been served, Zöe. You have the manners of a peasant." Her tone was sharp and icy. "And you'd do well to remember which sister, or you'd lose your only source of extra pin money."</p><p>Sidney was careful not to judge anyone by first impressions, but he did not appreciate the disrespect this young woman was currently displaying before him. She had yet to greet Shun-Lien and welcome her as a sister. He focused his gaze on the lid of the teapot, so he didn't have to look at Lady Zöe, who was testing the limits of his patience.</p><p>"There's plenty more left! Higgins always makes enough for an army." Zöe shrugged insouciantly. She plopped herself on the sofa next to her aunt and started eating. "How can I remember which sister? She's always away in China somewhere."</p><p>Next to Sidney, Shun-Lien had gone stiff and he could sense the tension in her body. He wished there was a way he could comfort her. He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. Almost instantly, she seemed to relax. She looked up at him and smiled. For a moment, he couldn't catch his breath for her smile struck a chord somewhere deep within him.</p><p>"Shun-Lien," said Lady Gemma before bursting into a stream of Chinese.</p><p>Shun-Lien patted Sidney's leg and replied to her aunt in kind. The two women spoke the foreign language at ease with each other for a few moments. One would think that Lady Gemma was a native speaker.</p><p>Lady Zöe made a sound of disgust. "Ugh, can you stop this silly ching-chong talk, please? I've got a head and that noise is making it worse."</p><p>Lady Gemma leveled a haughty look at her niece. "The language is Mandarin. If you weren't such an ignoramus, you would know that. It is a language older than English and both of your elder siblings speak it fluently. You might curry favor with them if you respected it."</p><p>"You are also free to remove yourself from this room and go somewhere else, sister," said Shun-Lien beside Sidney. "To the rooftop patio, perhaps. It's nice and quiet there. Daylight is good for you."</p><p>Lady Zöe gasped audibly and with wide eyes, gawked at her sibling as though she had just noticed the other's presence. "My God, Susan... or Sarah. It's you! What the hell happened to your pretty face? You looked like a little porcelain doll before. Now you're... well, you're here, I guess. Good for you!"</p><p>"Zöe!" Lady Gemma's voice was a whip that whistled through the air and ended with a crack. "That is on the outside of enough. Make yourself scarce this instant or I shall tell Ravenwood of your odious behavior and we'll let him be the judge of it."</p><p>"Fine." Zöe knocked off her plate from the sofa, scattering her uneaten cakes and sandwiches all over the carpet. She winked at Sidney. "I'll see you later, vicar." With that, she flounced off.</p><p>Though Lady Gemma appeared upset, she seemed to have regained her composure within moments. She nodded at Sidney, before turning her attention to her niece. "I'll have a maid clean this up immediately." She picked up a tiny bell and shook it. "My dear girl, I'm sorry you had to witness that."</p><p>Shun-Lien was looking down at her hands. More hair had escaped her chignon and cascaded forward to cover both sides of her face like a black waterfall. "Why are you surprised by her behavior, Aunt Gemma? You know she has always resented me and my sister for being the daughters of my father's first wife."</p><p>A little maid squirreled into the drawing room, saw the mess, and dashed away again. Less than a minute later, she was back with a bin and rag. She quickly cleaned up the mess left by Lady Zöe. Sidney assumed they were supposed to pretend that she wasn't there, even though none of them said a thing till she was done and gone again.</p><p>Lady Gemma sighed in exasperation. "In China, wives and children knew their place. Amalia is your father's second wife. She should have taught her children to revere and respect their older siblings. Even though your mother is dead, Amalia should still be honoring her because she was your father's first wife. She should have an altar for your mother and father in her home."</p><p>Sidney was confused. Why would the second marchioness have to honor the first one? It seemed a little insensitive that she should have to revere her husband's former wife. How could a newly married couple forge a new path for themselves if the memories of the man's previous wife constantly hovered over them?</p><p>"Auntie, this is not mainland China," Shun-Lien said patiently, finally looking up. "Father did not have two wives at the same time. Mother divorced him first."</p><p>Lady Gemma pulled out her fan from the sleeve of her blazer, spread it out with a flick of her hand, and held it against her chest. "When my husband Junjie took a second wife, she knew her place from the beginning. She respects the hierarchy and so do her children. They revere and honor me. The same of his third wife and her children. The first wife is the queen and ruler of the household. When Junjie wanted a fourth wife, I put my foot down. A line must be drawn somewhere. Six children are enough."</p><p>Sidney finally understood. In China, a man could have more than one wife, just like in many Muslim countries. He couldn't imagine having more one wife. Once a man found the right woman for him, he should be satisfied with her for the rest of his life. That was his belief, anyway, but there were a few men in the Bible who had multiple wives. Essau and Solomon, to name two.</p><p>In the First Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians, he suggested that it was good for a man to remain celibate, but because of the temptations to sexual immorality, each man should have a wife, and each woman her own husband. The man must provide his wife her conjugal rights and the wife to her husband, his.</p><p>While he was contemplating the nature of abstinence and if he and Shun-Lien should remain celibate before they got married, a tall, wide-shouldered man appeared before them in a navy-blue suit that appeared to be specifically tailored for him. Bespoke, Sidney thought. He was a striking man with olive complexion, a perfect blend of two ethnicities: dark Asiatic eyes on a European face. His jet-black hair was cut short and he was cleanly shaven. He projected an air of wisdom and confidence.</p><p>Sidney stood and so did the two ladies. He would have been intimidated, he supposed, if he weren't slightly taller than the man. It was a petty thought, but it made him feel a little better. Shun-Lien's brother was a physically imposing man.</p><p>"<em>Mèimei</em>, come here." The man's voice was deep and imperious, a tone that stated it would brook no arguments. "I want to see you."</p><p>"Ravenwood, she's tired from her trip. Why don't you let her rest..." their aunt started to say.</p><p>"Aunt Gemma." The man held up his index finger in the air, effectively silencing the older woman.</p><p>Shun-Lien released Sidney's hand and stepped around him to get to her brother. Her leg dragged behind her a bit, but she managed to reach him on her own. She held out her arms. <em>"Gēgē."</em></p><p>The marquess grasped her elbows to keep her at length so he could study her. To remain on her feet, Shun-Lien gripped her brother's upper arms. She dropped her head, so she didn't have to look directly at him and once again, her long, black hair covered her face like a curtain.</p><p>"Don't do that, don't hide." The marquess released her arms and set her on her feet, so that she wouldn't fall. He pushed her hair out of her face. He seemed to study her for a minute, as though familiarizing himself with her features. "Shun-Lien?"</p><p>Shun-Lien glanced at Sidney, then returned her attention to her brother.</p><p>"You look well. A little pale and skinny, though," the marquess pronounced. "I trust Jing-Mei and Jifei have been taking care of you and making sure you're eating and sleeping?"</p><p>Shun-Lien looked at Sidney again over her shoulder as if to tell him, "This is what I have to deal with," but as he made a move forward, she gave him a warning glare and stopped him in his tracks. Her look told him, "I can deal with this." Then she turned back to her brother. Sidney wished he could step outside for a few minutes to have a smoke.</p><p>"I'm fine, <em>gēgē</em>," she said with the patience of someone who'd uttered those words a thousand times before. "My leg bothers me a little, but Jifei massages it nightly and it helps a lot. Truly, <em>gēgē</em>, I am fine on my own."</p><p>The marquess put his hand on her shoulder. "Now that you've come to live in England, <em>mèimei</em>, move to London. I have plenty of room. I hate the thought of you in that ramshackle mansion all by yourself."</p><p>"<em>Gēgē</em>, I have a full staff! Besides, I can't leave the place now. I'm marrying the vicar. I have to live in the vicarage!"</p><p>Well, that answered that, Sidney thought, content for the moment. He believed he had to convince her to move into the vicarage. Actually, he thought he would have to convince her to marry him <em>for real</em>.</p><p>"Oh, right." The marquess looked over his sister's head at him and frowned. He gently set aside Shun-Lien to take a better gander at him, his eyes moving over him as though he had switched to detective mode and Sidney was a suspect for a heinous crime. "The vicar," he said slowly.</p><p>The marquess stepped forward and held out his hand. "I'm Fenwick. Or Ravenwood, if you must. You can even call me Jordan, if you're feeling familial. But never refer to me as your lord."</p><p>"Ravenwood, I serve only one Lord." Sidney smiled and shook his hand firmly. "I'm Sidney Chambers."</p><p>The marquess narrowed his gaze. "Chambers? I've heard of you. You're that crime-solving vicar from Cambridgeshire."</p><p>Sidney was glad the man had heard of him. Maybe it would make it easier to talk to him about Shun-Lien's security. "Yes. I'm afraid so. I've assisted Inspector Geordie Keating of Cambridge CID on a few cases."</p><p>Ravenwood nodded. "I know Keating. He's a solid cop. I've heard people say you're his lucky charm."</p><p>"<em>Gēgē</em>, Sidney is really smart," Shun-Lien interceded. "He went to Corpus, you know, like you. He graduated with honors."</p><p>Sidney wondered how she knew that. He couldn't remember ever telling her about his academic history. She did tell him she had people asking about him, but what was the extent of that? Did she hire a private inquiry agent to find out if he were good fake fiance material? How much did she know about him already?</p><p>"Did he? How long have you two known each other?"</p><p>Sidney said, "A few days," at the same time that Shun-Lien said, "A couple of weeks."</p><p>The marquess eyed them both suspiciously. "Which is it?"</p><p>"Oh dear!" Lady Gemma exclaimed, breaking her silence.</p><p>Shun-Lien returned to Sidney's side and slipped her arm around his waist. "That is, we've known each other for a couple of weeks, but we've been engaged for a few days."</p><p>Sidney was not too happy about the deception. He would have to talk to her as soon as they were alone and tell her that he was not really comfortable with the lying. He was risking a lot to help her. For the tenth time that day, he silently prayed to God that he was doing the right thing.</p><p>"Is that right, vicar?" the marquess asked him pointedly.</p><p>Sidney put his arm briefly around Shun-Lien's shoulders to give her a squeeze, then let her go. "I just feel like I've known her all my life."</p><p>Shun-Lien's brother nodded, as though he accepted that explanation. "And how did you two meet? Young reported that my sister never left the house except for the three times she visited yours. In the evening."</p><p>"With Misses Lee and Chan, along with Mr. Young, sir, never on her own," Sidney replied, aware that he and Shun-Lien were now on shaky ground. "She was always chaperoned. And I am never alone in the vicarage. Another priest lives with me and I have a housekeeper."</p><p>The marquess focused on his sister. "What were you doing visiting a bachelor's home, <em>mèimei?</em> You are a lady. It is highly improper."</p><p>Lady Gemma scoffed. "Oh for the love of God, Ravenwood! It's not the nineteenth century anymore and Shun-Lien is thirty-one years old! Do you honestly think she's still a virgin? She was married once, you know."</p><p>Shun-Lien gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Auntie!"</p><p>Lady Gemma rolled her eyes. "Oh come off it, Susan, we're all adults here. And it's time that your brother accepted that you're not his <em>mèimei</em> anymore."</p><p>The marquess turned to his aunt, looking murderous. "I vowed to my father that I would take care of my sisters and now that he's gone, I have to make sure that she finds happiness and lives a long, lucky life."</p><p>"Your father?" Lady Gemma laughed bitterly. "He only cared about you, his heir. He didn't mind at all when your mother took the girls with her." She looked at the back of her hand to casually inspect her nails. "And I think your sister's luck is finally turning around with her serendipitous meeting of Canon Chambers."</p><p>Sidney took his fiancee's hand, which he found to be cold and clammy. No wonder she was anxious about coming here. This place was a war zone. She tugged at his hand, prompting him to look at her. She gave him a smile meant to reassure him, as though he were the one who needed it.</p><p>"That remains to be seen," the marquess muttered darkly. "Don't the clergy take a vow of poverty? Shun-Lien has never lived a beggarly day in her life."</p><p>"My lady will be well provided for," Sidney protested.  "The vicarage may be old, but it is sturdy and spacious, I make enough money to support the two of us, and I'll honor her and care for her above all others."</p><p>Ravenwood faced him, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. "Is that right? Are you aware that she is worth millions of pounds, vicar? How much does a man like you possibly make in a month? 50 pounds at most?"</p><p>Without warning, Shun-Lien slapped her brother's arm with the flat of her palm. "Stop it. You're being horrible! You have no say about who I choose to marry. Sidney is a kind and honorable man."</p><p>"I want none of her money," Sidney insisted. "I will sign a prenuptial agreement to attest to that statement. Her money will remain hers."</p><p>The marquess lifted one eyebrow. "So you're a proud man, then, vicar? You'd allow my sister to live in poverty if need be just to prove a point?"</p><p>The man had the eyes of a jungle cat on the prowl for prey. Sidney realized instantly that Shun-Lien's brother was looking to trap him. "Of course not. Her comfort and security will be my number one priority. If I have to take on a second job to ensure that she doesn't endure one second of hardship, I will do it."</p><p>"Number one priority?" the marquess jeered. "You're choosing her over your God?"</p><p>Shun-Lien placed herself between him and Sidney. Eyes blazing, she pivoted toward her brother. "How dare you?" She stuck her finger in his chest. "How dare you question his faith when you believe in nothing?"</p><p>Sidney placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her back from her sibling. "Darling, it's all right. You're tired from your trip. You should freshen up and maybe take a nap, huh?" He knew he sounded patronizing, but he had to deescalate the situation before it could turn into a knock-down, drag-out fight.</p><p>"Listen to your fiance, dearest. You really need to just lie down and rest for a while. You're a little overwrought," said the rational voice of Lady Gemma.</p><p>Sidney thought they could have done without the "overwrought" part, but it seemed to have worked on Shun-Lien. She turned away from the marquess, muttering a vague apology, and limped back to Sidney who caught her. She nestled into his chest, so he wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.</p><p>"I see." The marquess tracked their movements with his distrustful eyes. "I will see you all at dinner," he declared before leaving them.</p><p>"So melodramatic." Lady Gemma rolled her eyes upward. "Sidney--may I call you Sidney? Take her upstairs. Use the elevator." She touched Soo-Lin's shoulder. "My dear, I know Zöe is currently occupying your room. If you want it, just say the word. I'll put her somewhere else. The shed, if I have to."</p><p>"Auntie!" Shun-Lien laughed, though she seemed horrified.</p><p>Sidney was relieved to see her smile. He'd gotten to know her better in the last couple of days during her visits while he was ill and had found her to be funny, thoughtful, smart, and kind. She cared about the people around her and worried non-stop about how many innocents might die if the killer weren't soon discovered and captured. He knew she wasn't sleeping because Miss Lee told him. She worried constantly about receiving another letter.</p><p>"You need rest, my love." Lady Gemma lay her palm on her niece's cheek. "You've been through so much. Let your vicar take care of you." She pulled away and looked up into Sidney's eyes. "I trust you'll treat her well, Mr. Chambers. You're in the aquamarine bedroom, which is one room down across the hall from hers. They are both on the second floor." She patted his arm. "Well, I must go and make my rounds. Lots of people to visit. I've been away for too long."</p><p>Once they were alone, his fiancee pushed away him away, but didn't go too far. She was still within arms' length. He wanted to see all of her just then, but her hair covered the half of her face that had the burns. She smiled, but Sidney only saw a fraction of it.</p><p>He tried to sweep her hair away so he could see her full smile, but she brushed his hand off. "No, Sidney. You've already seen too much of me today. I don't want you to get sick of my face."</p><p>He stroked her arm from shoulder to elbow. "Never. I'll never be able to see enough of you. I want to see you all the time."</p><p>"You're plenty slick and smooth for a preacher man," she said in a honeyed drawl reminiscent of the American South.</p><p>Sidney laughed. For a moment, she reminded him of Violet because she imitated the other woman's accent perfectly. "You, my lady, are Legion. You have many voices, don't you?"</p><p>She shrugged, out of modesty more than uncertainty. "I did some acting at university."</p><p>"Lean into me," he whispered, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Unless you're tired and want me to carry you." He was only half-teasing.</p><p>"Mr. Chambers, I've told you that I hate being treated like an invalid, but since I cannot easily locate my cane at the moment, I will accept your assistance in getting me to bed." She covered her mouth. "That is, umm..."</p><p>Sidney grinned. How could she be a coquette one minute and a demure maiden the next? She was a mass of contradictions. "Your virtue is safe with me, my dear. I'm your friendly neighborhood vicar. We're a trustworthy lot, you know."</p><p>"Of course, I trust you, Sidney Chambers, or you wouldn't be here." She slipped her arm around his waist and leaned into him for balance. "We have to go through with the wedding now, you know. I mean, I've already told my brother. And you witnessed what a stubborn arse he is. If we don't do it, we'll both look like arseholes."</p><p>"Well, I'm a gentleman, so of course I'm perfectly willing to help you save face."</p><p>Together, they walked in sync to the elevator as though they had practiced it or had been doing it for years. The elevator was just down the hall from the drawing room right next to the water closet. Sidney pressed the button marked with the "up" arrow. It was the darndest thing to see in a private residence. He'd only ever seen elevators in hospitals, hotels, universities, and department stores.</p><p>When the elevator cab arrived, Sidney ushered her in and followed. Shun-Lien pressed the number 2 button on the panel. Sidney closed his eyes as the doors slid shut. He held his breath and clutched Shun-Lien to him, burying his face in her hair. When they reached their floor and the doors opened again, he prodded her out gently without trying to appear he was in a hurry. Once they were free of the conveyance, he released his breath and resumed breathing normally.</p><p>"All right, Sidney?" She put her hand on his chest. "Oh, I can't stand enclosed places, either. It was a good thing I had you there to hold me."</p><p>He realized quickly what she was doing. She was giving him an out, to deny that he was claustrophobic. He wanted to kiss her. "During the war, I rode in... tanks. My men and I would be packed in there like sardines, sometimes for hours at a time. So I don't do very well with small spaces these days."</p><p>"What about confessionals?"</p><p>He chuckled, glad to be back on even footing. "Good thing I'm an Anglican priest, then and not a Catholic one."</p><p>The second floor landing narrowed into two hallways of opposite sides. Shun-Lien said the hallway where their bedrooms were, had three, while the other hallway only had one. That was the garden suite, the second largest bedroom in the house, and probably where her aunt stayed. The third floor had three bedrooms, including the pink and the yellow. The first floor had the master suite and the rooms of Stadler and Higgins. The fourth floor was entirely a library and a solarium. Above the library was the secret rooftop patio that was hidden so it wouldn't detract from the Georgian aesthetic of the house.</p><p>Shun-Lien said Miss Lee would be staying in the room across from hers and next door to him. Sidney smiled. <em>A-ha</em><em>, of course there was a chaperone</em>, he thought, shaking his head. As well there should be! He had nothing but pure intentions for the Honorable Lady Susan.</p><p>She directed him to her room, the so-called "Mermaid Suite." It was bright and airy with a large bay window that had padded seating and looked out to the back garden.  The wallpaper was cream and covered with tiny yellow and purple flowers. It had a sizeable four-poster bed in the middle with gray, violet, and white pillows and linens. At the foot of it was a purple velvet tufted settee the same width as the bed and had padded armrests.</p><p>There was also a vanity table with a mirror, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a Queen Anne writing desk. A few paintings hung on the wall, some of them Oriental in motif like colorful fish in a pond, cherry blossom trees, and one of a girl brushing her long, black hair by a river with her feet submerged in the water. The largest one was of two young, black-haired girls in red pajamas with red ribbons in their hair walking hand in hand toward a field of red poppies. Chinese characters were written along the side vertically.</p><p><em>Red ribbons.</em> Sidney filed away the image in his memory bank.</p><p>Try as he did, he couldn't find anything with a mermaid in it.</p><p>"Why is this called the Mermaid Suite?"</p><p>Shun-Lien placed her fingers over her lips, though her eyes were alit with mirth. When she opened her mouth, giggles spilled forth. "In 1736, this house was a secret bordello and each suite had a theme. This room had a French girl named Cherie, costumed as a mermaid. Apparently, she was very popular at the time. When an ancestor bought the house, he must have thought it funny for the room to keep the name, thus here you stand in the Mermaid Suite."</p><p>Sidney was astounded by how much laughter transformed her face. She looked younger and he could actually see the carefree girl she might have been once upon a time. Humor chased the shadows out of her eyes and she wasn't as self-conscious about her appearance. If he weren't careful, he could really fall for her and he was already much infatuated with her.</p><p>He asked if he could play lady's maid and help her undress.</p><p>Her dark brown eyes sparkled with amusement. "You cheeky monkey. 'Friendly neighborhood vicar,' indeed. I see that I have to watch myself around you. I'll be fine on my own. And Jing-Mei is around here somewhere. Your suite should be ready and by now, your luggage would be unpacked and your clothes hanging in the wardrobe."</p><p>"Full service." He took her hand. "I guess that's my cue to leave."</p><p>"A man who can take a hint. I'm impressed." She shivered as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I'll take a nap, I think. I am quite tired."</p><p>"I might do some exploring while you're asleep. My sister lives in the city. My parents live just on the outskirts."</p><p>"Ask Stadler to lend you a car, if you need it. I trust you're familiar with London? If not, mind how you go."</p><p>Sidney winked, causing her to roll her eyes. "Of course. God is always watching."</p><p>"Be careful, then. Dinner is at seven and we dress up for it." She sighed. "I'll see you later?"</p><p>Sidney headed to the door, then turned back to face her so he could bow. <em>"Je te vois ce soir, mademoiselle."</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Sidney Goes for a Drive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney updates Geordie on his journey to London, then drives to Peckham to see Jen and Johnny to share his engagement news with them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Series 4  Sidney Chambers who never left Grantchester and decided to stay a vicar</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney left Shun-Lien's bedroom, closing the door behind him, just as Miss Lee was heading into her own bedroom. Today, she was wearing a green dress with long sleeves that had puffy shoulders and an empire waist, along with a square neckline. The dress stopped an inch below her knee, but she had on black stockings. On her feet were black leather ankle-length boots. Her long, black hair was restrained in a French braid, emphasizing her round, bright face. She looked a lot younger than her age, which was somewhere in her twenties. In her hand was Shun-Lien's cane.</p><p>"Oh, Mr. Chambers!" She put her free hand on her chest. "You scared me. How is my cousin?"</p><p>"She's fine. A little tired from the trip. She said she's going to take a nap for a bit. You might want to check on her when you have a second and see if she needs anything."</p><p>Miss Lee smiled and nodded. "Yes, I was just about to do that. Thank you for looking after her in the meantime."</p><p>Sidney felt oddly embarrassed."I mean to take care of her for the rest of my life."</p><p>Miss Lee gave him a considering look. "I believe you really mean that, Mr. Chambers. I think you truly do care for her."</p><p>Sidney was nonplussed. The lady really saw way too much. "How could I lie about such a thing, Miss Lee? She's an easy person to care about."</p><p>Miss Lee broke their eye contact and cleared her throat, picking off a piece of lint from the sleeve of her dress. "You'd be surprised. As you probably know by now, my cousin is an heiress. On top of what she has now, Lady Gemma will leave everything to her. She has been beset by fortune hunters everywhere we have lived in the last four years."</p><p>Sidney raised his eyes heavenward and drew in his breath. He exhaled slowly before he could answer his fiancee's cousin. "I understand everyone's concerns, Miss Lee, but I am not one of those men. I am a simple vicar from a small village. I have no aspirations of taking money from my wife and becoming rich. The very notion of it is distasteful to me."</p><p>Miss Lee nodded, but did not look at him, continuing to fiddle with her sleeve, which had embroidered lace at the end of it. "You are a good man, Canon Chambers. I am happy that Soo-Lin chose you."</p><p>Sidney frowned. Did she mean "Shun-Lien"? It seemed odd that Miss Lee would make that mistake, since she had known both women all her life. He wanted to question her more about it, but the timing was not right. He needed more facts to back up his theory. Perhaps he could visit a library to peruse some old newspapers while he was out. </p><p>"Well, I'll leave you to your afternoon, Miss Lee. My sister lives here in the city, so I was thinking of going to see her."</p><p>The young woman finally looked up and smiled. "Oh, that's wonderful, Mr. Chambers. I'm glad. Well, I suppose I'll see you at dinner. I will check on my lady, then I'll probably take a nap myself."</p><p>Sidney bowed. "Until later, then."</p><p>He stood at the top of the grand staircase and surveyed the floor below him. From where he stood, he could see the grand foyer with the enormous chandelier hanging above that featured at least one hundred lights, a formal dining room, the entrances to the front sitting room and the drawing room, and another sitting area off to the side of the foyer in front of a large marble fireplace. The floorplan of the house was impressive and Sidney couldn't imagine living in something so big. He preferred the coziness of the vicarage. He'd always feel lost and lonely in a house this size.</p><p>He descended the staircase slowly, admiring his surroundings as one might admire a museum. Beautiful to visit, but one wouldn't want to live in it. Before he could reach the front door, Stadler seemed to appear out of nowhere and approached him. </p><p>"Canon Chambers, you received a call from Inspector Geordie Keating while you were indisposed. He said to call him back at the nick. There is a telephone in the family sitting area if you care to call him back."</p><p>Sidney patted the butler on the back in thanks and the older man flinched as though Sidney had hit him a lot harder. Huh. Maybe one did not get too familiar with servants, either. He wasn't sure he'd like living as someone of the upper class. </p><p>He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Stadler."</p><p>The butler nodded. "You're welcome, sir. Would you like some coffee or tea?"</p><p>"Oh, no, thank you, Stadler. After my call with the inspector, I was thinking of heading out for a while. Lady Susan told me to ask you about a car?"</p><p>"Very good, sir. Will you be needing a chauffeur or would you like to drive yourself? The marquess said I am to avail for you any car in his collection upon your request."</p><p>Sidney raised his eyebrows. How many bloody cars did Ravenwood have? "Erm... his most economical car, I suppose. I don't want anything new or flashy. Just... an ordinary car, if he has one of those. And no, I won't need a driver."</p><p>"Ordinary?" The butler frowned as if that had never been a word he associated with anything his master owned. "Well, he does have an older Jaguar XK140. He hasn't used it much since he acquired the Ferrari early this year, limited edition. Only twenty-one were made."</p><p>Sidney whistled under his breath. This was an entirely different world than he was used to. He could just imagine Johnny's face if he pulled up in a Ferrari. His sister's boyfriend was a car fanatic. "I think I'll take the Jaguar, if it's available. Unless Lord Ravenwood has a humbler car, perhaps?"</p><p>The butler appeared confused, as though he couldn't fathom why anyone would refuse the opportunity to drive a luxury car. He scratched his chin. "The Land Rover, but it's in the shop right now for maintenance, I'm afraid. My lord took his aunt to his country estate in Sussex last week and discovered it needed repairs."</p><p>Sidney sighed, feeling a little bit like an arsehole. "It'll have to be the Jaguar, then, Stadler. Thank you for your assistance."</p><p>The butler nodded. "A fine choice, sir. I'll just have Jonesy pull it up to the front of the house, so that it'll be ready to go when you are."</p><p>Sidney thanked him and headed for the family living area, which was a little cozier than anything he'd seen of the house so far. The two sofas had fabric upholstery, instead of leather, and they had floral patterns which reminded him of the old, comfortable couches that his grandmother had in her house in North Yorkshire. The sofas were tufted and had that overstuffed Victorian look. He was willing to bet that the cushions were filled with the finest goose down feathers that money could buy. </p><p>In front of the fireplace was a large velvet settee that could fit two people. In the middle was a gorgeous Persian rug that probably cost more than two years of his salary. There were also two of those "Lazy Boy" chairs he'd only read about, which were luxury armchairs that had a lever along the side that made the chair recline and a built-in footrest come up.</p><p>Next to the sofa pushed up against the wall was a side table that had a black rotary phone on it. Sidney sat next to it, took a second to appreciate the warm, embracing cradle of opulence afforded only to the mega-rich, and picked up the phone to call his best friend.</p><p>"Keating." Geordie was not in a good mood.</p><p>"Hello, Inspector," Sidney greeted him cheerfully. "The butler said you rang."</p><p>Geordie snorted. "A butler, eh? Well, helloooo, Mr. Fancy Pants. Only a few hours in London with some nobles and you've gone Little Lord Fauntleroy on me."</p><p>Sidney groaned. "Don't start, Geordie. I'm about ready to jump out of a window as it is."</p><p>His friend laughed. "Better you than me, boy-o. Wanted to update you on a couple of folks I've spoken to while you're out gamboling with the idle rich."</p><p>"Give me a break, Geordie." Just then, the maid who cleaned up Lady Zöe's mess earlier shyly approached him and asked if he would like some tea. He covered the receiver with one hand, asked for her name, and said, "No, thank you, Hannah." </p><p>"I spoke to Herbert Stevens, the estate manager of Morning Meadows, the dairy farm where Judith Meyers was found. He wasn't there when the body was recovered because he'd gone down to Kent to be with his pregnant daughter," Geordie relayed to him. "He said he'd hired a few farm lads the week before to help with the cows, reinforce some fencing, and shovel snow away from the barn and out of the corral. Most of them were regulars, but there were a couple he'd never seen before. One was called John Smith and he just disappeared one day. Didn't even come back for his paycheck."</p><p>Sidney drummed his fingers on the armrest of the sofa. "John Smith was obviously an alias, Geordie. By any chance, did Mr. Stevens mention if Smith was an American?"</p><p>Geordie clicked his tongue. "You're not thinking it's the same bloke who raped Clothilde, are you? Dr. Debrynne has determined that Judith was not sexually assaulted."</p><p>"No." Sidney thought about how much he could reveal to Geordie at this juncture. "As I've told you, I suspect that the killer is a mentally unbalanced fan of Lady Sarah's books and may be committing these murders as a sick homage to her. The first three books were published in New York City, New York. What if our suspect is American?"</p><p>"This is why I keep you around, Chambers," Geordie said with some pride in his voice. "You think my so-called bagman could have come up with anything like that? Larry couldn't find his own arsehole with a map and a torch."</p><p>Sidney had told him before that he was a little hard on Larry Peters, who idolized him and was desperate to impress him. Geordie was a rookie cop once, Sidney had reminded him, and had a guv'nor of his own to dazzle with his wits, too. "You have to ease up on Larry, mate. He can't grow as a police officer with you always haranguing him. He needs your guidance, not your badgering."</p><p>The inspector made a sound of disgust. This was an old debate of theirs. "We're doing real police work here, Sidney. We're not some nowhere town in the armpit of Cornwall. I don't have time to be holding somebody's hand."</p><p>Sidney gave it up for the moment. There were more important things on hand at any rate. "Have you spoken to Mrs. Meyers lately? How is she?"</p><p>"I stopped by her house this afternoon just as Leonard was leaving on your bicycle. He told me he was there to make final arrangements for the memorial this Sunday. Will is performing the service, as it turns out. Elsie is very grateful for everything you've done. When do you think you'll be back?"</p><p>Sidney was wondering that himself. He wanted to find out more about Shun-Lien and the only way he could do that was to stay in close quarters with her. Jen had also called him the night before and said she hadn't heard from their brother Matt, and their parents were starting to worry. "I don't know, Geordie. I have a few things to take care of up here. Maybe the middle of next week or something."</p><p>"Seriously, Chambers, next you'll be telling me you're moving to London and buying a townhouse in Belgravia."</p><p>Sidney chuckled. "I don't think that life is for me, Geordie. I'm not meant to live a life of luxury."</p><p>"Oh, right, a public school boy like you," Georgie scoffed. "You were raised among them."</p><p>"I was a scholarship student. My mother made my clothes. I didn't wear anything that came from a store until I was earning my own living!" He really hated it when his friend made such ridiculous assumptions about him. Jen was bullied throughout secondary school and college because her clothes were also homemade and the girls made fun of her. </p><p>"All right, don't get your knickers in a knot. You get so sensitive about these things, Chambers." Geordie expelled his breath audibly over the phone. "I also spoke to the night porter at New Court. Fellow called Stubbins. He said he was called over to assist with an altercation between two male students by the new chapel around 11:30 in the evening, then he returned to his post about ten minutes before midnight. He didn't witness any disturbances during his last check around the area before he had to clock out. I was told to check with the graveyard shift porter."</p><p>Sidney groaned. "You're kidding. That's terrible, Geordie. He's the guy who works from midnight to eight in the morning. You'd have to wake up early and get there if you want to catch him and talk to him."</p><p>He could almost hear Geordie gritting his teeth on the other end of the line. "If I knew Larry wouldn't muck this up, I'd assign it to him."</p><p>"Give him a shot, Geordie. Limit the scope of what you want him to ask the porter, prepare the questions ahead of time if you have to. Larry needs to know that you have faith in him. You trusted Phil, didn't you?"</p><p>Geordie grunted. "Phil passed his sergeant's. He was a real bagman. Larry has already failed his, twice."</p><p>"He just needs guidance, my friend."</p><p>"I don't know why you're taking up the cause for Larry. He hates your guts, you know."</p><p>Sidney chuckled. "Oh, come on, Geordie. Don't you know? I'm your friendly neighborhood vicar."</p><p>He hung up with his friend and headed for the front door, where Stadler was waiting with his overcoat and hat. The butler reminded him that dinner was served at seven and the master was very prompt. Sidney said thank you and bounded down the front steps of the Georgian townhouse. </p><p>As he pulled on his gloves, he thought how odd it was that London looked hardly affected by winter, but his home was blanketed in snow and would be till the end of February. A tall, wiry man who looked like he worked a lot under the sun, judging by his weathered skin, came up to him and introduced himself. He was dressed in a plain black suit, neatly pressed, and had a driving cap on. </p><p>"I'm Jonesy, guv'nor," he said, handing Sidney the keys. "Mr. Stadler says you won't be needing me to drive you."</p><p>Sidney smiled and nodded his thanks. "That's right. I have a few places I must visit today and would prefer to drive on my own."</p><p>"Very good, sir." Behind the chauffeur was a shiny white car that made Sidney gulp. "My lord's Jaguar XK140. I just cleaned her up for you, guv'nor, and she's full of petrol. Just take it easy on the brakes as a light tap would be enough. The clutch sticks a little, but I'm going to fix that one of these days."</p><p>Sidney clutched the keys in his hand, suddenly nervous. He hasn't driven much since the war, but his license was current. He had visions of wrecking his future brother-in-law's car. He told himself to relax. He hadn't had anything to drink today and God would watch over him.</p><p>"Thank you, Jonesy. I'll take care of her." He got in behind the wheel when the chauffeur opened the door for him and closed it after him. He made sure not to offer his hand for a shake this time because it had the tendency to make the servants feel uncomfortable. He still wasn't sure how to feel about that.</p><p>He took a moment to breathe in the scent of fine leather and luxury. The car still smelled brand new, or at least what he imagined what a brand new car smelled like: freshly minted money and indulgence. He adjusted the mirrors to his specifications, started the car, and listened to the fine engine purring for a second. He flashed an OK sign at Jonesy, who returned it, then pulled away from the kerb. </p><p>Once he got to driving, he realized there was nothing to it. Not quite like riding a bike, but his muscle memory naturally guided his actions. He made his way toward Peckham, where Jen shared a flat with Johnny. </p><p>It was Thursday and Jen got off early from her job on Thursdays. She worked in a big law firm in the typing pool. She would definitely be surprised to see him. </p><p>He pulled up to the kerb across the street from where she lived and tossed a couple of crowns to boys who said they'd watch the car. He stopped by the shop adjacent to the building where his sister lived and bought her some flowers and a packet of butter biscuits. Afterward, he went next door, went up the stairs, and knocked on Jen's door.</p><p>Jen's eyes widened before she let out a shriek and threw her arms around him. "Brother, what are you doing here?"</p><p>Sidney hugged her back before giving her the flowers and biscuits. "I'm here in London for a few days, so I thought I'd stop by and say hello."</p><p>Jen put his flowers in a vase and put the kettle on the stove, before sitting down with him on the sofa in her tiny living room. "But where are your bags? Are you not staying with us?"</p><p>"No, I'm staying at a house in Knightsbridge. It's my fiancee's brother's place. I told you, I really just stopped by to see how you're doing."</p><p>Jen goggled at him, her mouth dropping open. Then she recovered and hit him on the shoulder. "What the hell do you mean, you have a fiancee who lives in Knightsbridge? Is this a joke?"</p><p>Sidney rubbed his injured arm. His sister had always hit hard. "No, I'm not joking. I'm engaged, Jen. As of three days ago. I gave her grandmother's ring."</p><p>Jen steepled her hands over her mouth and nose as her eyes filled up with tears. Her fingernails were painted bright pink. "Oh, Sidney, you rascal. Do our parents know? Who is she?"</p><p>He cleared his throat. One of these days, this part was going to get easier to say and he wouldn't feel so ridiculous anymore. "Good thing you're already sitting down. She's Lady Susan Fenwick, the sister of the Marquess of Ravenwood."</p><p>Jen hit him again. "Okay, now I know you're messing with me. I went to school with the younger sister Zöe, who was a brat of the first order, and I don't imagine she's changed over the years. She said her older sister was locked up in a special mental hospital in Hong Kong."</p><p>Sidney rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. "Can I have a cigarette? I'm gasping."</p><p>Jen rolled her eyes, but reached into her purse and pulled out her pack and matches, slapping them both onto her brother's waiting palm. "Do not get ash on my carpet or I will make you hoover the whole damn place."</p><p>Just then, Johnny entered the flat in a white button-up shirt with a red bow tie, tucked into sharply creased, blue trousers. Red braces held up his trousers and on his tight curls sat a jauntily placed bowler's hat. </p><p>He slapped his hands together, grinning. "Oh, man, wait till you see the car parked across the street. Cooo-eee! It's a white Jaguar XK140, Jen. She's last year's model, but damn, what a beauty. Oh hey, Sidney, you gotta take a gander at this car. Bet I know who it belongs to. That fat cat wot visits Annie Sparkles next door. I thought he usually takes a cab here, though."</p><p>Sidney felt the flames of embarrassment fan up from the collar of his shirt to his face. He swiped his palm across the back of his neck. "Erm, it's mine. I drove it here."</p><p>Johnny stared at him doubtfully. "Did you get a part-time job as a chauffeur?"</p><p>"No. He got himself engaged to the sister of a bloody marquess without even telling me he was seeing anyone." Jen hit Sidney again. "I cannot believe you."</p><p>"Jen, you're going to bruise me up." Sidney put the cigarette between his teeth, lit a match to touch it to the tip, then put it out, tossing it into the ashtray. He took a deep drag before addressing Johnny, who was gawking at him, his mouth half open. "The car is not mine. It belongs to my fiancee's brother. Apparently, he has a fleet of cars and said I could borrow whichever one I wanted."</p><p>Johnny held out his hand. "Mind if I take it for a spin?"</p><p>It was Jen who balked. "Johnny, no! You know Sidney is as poor as a church mouse. Where would he get the money to fix it if you crash it?"</p><p>"Thanks, little sister," Sidney said dryly, drawing on his ciggy again. </p><p>Johnny shrugged. "Who cares, it belongs to a marquess. He probably won't even notice it."</p><p>Sidney chuckled. "He's bound to. The marquess is a Detective inspector at the Scotland Yard."</p><p>"Oh, him." Jen waved her hand dismissively in the air. "Yeah, we know a lot about him. The famous Gentleman Detective. There's a serial based on him in one of the tabloids. The Daily Mirror, I think. The secretaries in my office go ga-ga over him. 'Oh, he's so exotic with those Oriental eyes.' 'I bet he knows martial arts.' 'Oh, I bet he's read The Pillow Book.' Give me a break! They say that Chinese mysticism gives him special insight to his cases and that's why he solves them so quickly."</p><p>Sidney snorted with disbelief. "Or he's just a good detective. " He believed that about the man. He found the marquess to have a keen eye. </p><p>"I can't believe you got engaged to his sister. How did the two of you even meet? I take it she wasn't really locked up in a mental hospital?" his sister demanded.</p><p>Sidney finished his cigarette and stubbed it in the ashtray. "The Ravenwood country seat is in Cambridgeshire. As I am the nearest vicar in the vicinity, I dropped by for a visit and---"</p><p>"And what, proposed to her right then and there?" Jen blurted, her arms crossed tightly under her breasts. "Your birthday was just a few days ago and you weren't engaged then." She narrowed her eyes. "Or were you already?"</p><p>Johnny dropped himself into an armchair. "Jennifer, for Pete's sake, let the man tell his tale."</p><p>"Look, it was a whirlwind thing." It wasn't exactly a lie, Sidney told himself. From the moment he met her, he had been experiencing a range of emotions for her and it was almost like being in love, but he was not quite there yet. He didn't know exactly what he felt for Shun-Lien, but he was damn sure he wanted to take care of her. "We met and two days later, I proposed to her. I just knew she was the one."</p><p>His sister stared at him in utter disbelief. "Sidney Chambers, is this about Violet dumping you? You've done a lot of impulsive things in your life, brother, but if this is just some delayed reaction to your heartbreak or something, you're making a terrible mistake and dragging along this poor woman down with you." </p><p>Sidney glanced at Johnny for back-up, but the other man just held up his hands and shook his head. No help from that quarter, then. He turned back to his sister. "Jen, this has nothing to do with Violet. I loved her, but I've moved on. I have a real connection with Lady Susan."</p><p>Jen attempted to hit him again, but Sidney managed to dodge her this time. She seemed really upset. "That's the problem with you, Sidney. You're good at making 'real connections' with many women. You love the idea of being in love. You're an incurable romantic. That's why all of my school friends had crushes on you and why some of them still do."</p><p>Sidney longed for another ciggy, but decided not to push it. Meanwhile, the kettle started to shriek and Johnny went to take care of it. He put his hand on Jen's arm. "I know you worry, but I really do care for her. I'm not going to hurt her, Jen. She means so much to me."</p><p>To his surprise, his younger sister began to cry. "I just can't believe you've gone and actually proposed to a woman. You've pined and been in love with so many women and you've never been engaged. But now, you meet a woman and two days later, you propose to her?"</p><p>Sidney pulled out the handkerchief from the inside pocket of his blazer and gave it to her. He silently hoped that he packed enough handkerchiefs for this trip. "The circumstances were special, Jen. We were thrown in together by fate and discovered that we would suit each other very well, so we decided we should marry."</p><p>Johnny set down the tea tray on the coffee table and sat next to Jen on the sofa. He kissed her hair and drew her into his arms. "Don't cry, baby. Your brother knows what he's doing. He's a full grown man."</p><p>Jen blew her nose on Sidney's handkerchief. "Were you drunk when you proposed to her?"</p><p>Sidney exhaled in exasperation. He meant to just share the news with his sister and ask about Matthew. He should have expected the third-degree interrogation. Jen was very nosy when it came to his personal life. "I had a couple of drinks, Jen, but I wasn't drunk. For heaven's sake, Jennifer, she is a lovely woman. You'd love her."</p><p>His sister raised her eyebrows. "Of that, I have no doubt. I still think you should have married Hildegarde. She was perfect for you. How you mucked that up, I have no idea. But you do have a fine taste in women and this one a member of the nobility, no less. Just don't expect me to be curtsying for you."</p><p>Sidney laughed. "Why would you? I'm a mere Mister. Lady Susan is marrying way down."</p><p>"Oh, Sidney, don't you know? Your Lady So-and-so is the one marrying up. According to all of my girlfriends, you're Prince Charming."</p><p>At the door, Sidney hugged his sister and told her everything was going to be all right. Johnny shook his hand, then embraced and congratulated him. He made Sidney promise that he was going to bring his fiancee to the club one of these nights.</p><p>"She loves jazz," Sidney said with a chuckle. "I'm sure she'd enjoy the club."</p><p>Jen groaned. "Oh, they all say that just to please you, Sidney."</p><p>He grinned. "No, she really does. She's a true aficionada. She even saw Sidney Bechet a few years ago in Paris. She has a bigger record collection than I do." </p><p>Jen hugged him again. "Then she sounds like a good match for you, brother."</p><p>Sidney stepped out onto the hallway. "You still haven't heard from Matt?"</p><p>Jen shook her head. "The last time I heard from him was last week. But Johnny saw him three days ago. I didn't know this guy," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at her boyfriend, "lent him money. He said Matt was in pretty bad shape."</p><p>Johnny squeezed Jen's shoulder, but she shook him off. "He said he needed money to pay a debt to a mate called Cecil in Camden Town. I called him at the phone number he left, but I was told by the operator that it was no longer in service."</p><p>Sidney pulled out the small notepad and pen he'd started carrying around two years ago to jot down ideas and information. Geordie called it his detective notepad. "Did Matt give you the address of his mate in Camden Town? Or a general vicinity of where this Cecil lives?"</p><p>Johnny answered in the negative. "I'm sorry, Sidney. I met Matt at the back door of the club. As soon as I gave him the money, he took off."</p><p>Sidney sighed heavily and put away his notepad and pen. "Well, as soon as either of you hear from him again, let me know right away."</p><p>Jen touched his sleeve. "Have you told mum and dad about your engagement?"</p><p>"No, Jen. You're the first one I told."</p><p>His sister clapped excitedly. "Oh, can I tell them?"</p><p>Sidney raised an eyebrow, aware of Jen's proclivity for gossip. "No." </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Cocktail Hour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney goes to the library to read old newspapers regarding the circumstances of Lady Susan's car accident. Later that night, he finds common ground with Lady Susan's brother when they discover a mutual appreciation of fine scotch.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Series 4 Sidney Chambers who never left Grantchester and remained a vicar.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney's next destination was the Guildhall Library as it had archives of English newspapers that dated back to 1841 on microfiche and he wouldn't have to look through stacks of old periodicals. According to his watch, it was 4:30 pm, so he had plenty of time for research before going back to the townhouse to get ready for dinner. </p><p>The two boys he'd paid to watch over the car were still there, guarding over the Jaguar like the royal mounties at Buckingham Palace, so he thanked them and gave them both another crown each. Well, he thought to himself as he got behind the steering wheel, London was an expensive place, indeed.</p><p>The library was closing at six and by the time he got there, it was already five pm. The librarian, a fresh-faced young woman in her twenties who wore pink lipstick and black glasses with round frames, showed him to the microfiche room and how to use the machine. She also told him what time she got off work and asked if he would like to get a drink afterward.</p><p>Sidney politely refused and said he had a prior dinner engagement. The librarian, who had curly blond hair, smiled and said to let her know if he had any questions or problems with the machine. Sidney said he would. </p><p>He began to search through the London newspapers from 1952 to 1953. Mrs. C had said the accident were on London and Cambridge newspapers three years ago. He found it on the front page of the <em>London Times</em> in the right hand bottom corner. On April 23, 1953, the sister of the thirteenth Marquess of Ravenwood, Lady Susan Fenwick was killed in a car accident in Malaya with her fiancé, Captain Lucas Fitzwilliam, when they drove over a leftover land mine. Also in the car with them was Lady Sarah Fenwick, Lady Susan's  twin sister, who was thrown clear from the blast some yards away. Lady Sarah was pregnant at the time and lost her baby.</p><p>Sidney's heart ached for her. Had it been Sarah he'd been with all this time? Sarah who'd lost her child in the accident? He looked for other articles pertaining to the incident and found a correction. As it turned out, it was Lady Sarah who was killed in the accident and Lady Susan who survived the blast. There was a mix-up after the incident because the two women were identical twins and the surviving twin couldn't remember who she was for a few days due to her head injury. Lady Gemma, Lady Susan's aunt, went to her niece's side immediately and straightened everything out, but for a while, confusion remained as to which twin actually died.</p><p>Sidney sat back in his seat, utterly flabbergasted. <em>God, he needed a drink</em>. </p><p>He searched for more news regarding the Fenwicks, even scanned the society pages, but the only things he found were gossip about Lady Zöe and the events she attended with her wild set. There were some about her mother and some blind items that were obviously about her brother and his gambling habits, but nothing else about Lady Susan or Sarah. Plenty of news articles about the great Gentleman Detective of the New Scotland Yard, though. In one instance, he discovered a child prostitution ring and brought in the ringleader himself.</p><p>Sidney turned off the microfiche and rubbed his eyes. He'd had a long day and needed to take a shower before tonight's dinner. He took a moment to stretch his legs, then left the small room to walk down the main hall of the library to exit. On his way out, he made sure to wave at the librarian who helped him earlier. Much to his dismay, she took it as an invitation and ran up to him.</p><p>She pushed her hair out of her face and tucked the wayward curls behind her ears. "Listen, I don't ever really do this, but here." She handed him her business card. "If you ever feel like grabbing a drink or getting coffee with a new friend, give me a call. My name is Abby, by the way."</p><p>Sidney took her card and shook her hand. If it were another time and he weren't already deeply involved with Shun-Lien, he would have taken her out. She was a nice-looking girl. He looked at her card, then gave it back. "I'm sorry, Abby, my dinner engagement is actually with my fiancee's family. I'm no longer available."</p><p>"Oh." Her face was red as she took her card back and put it in her pocket. "The good ones are always taken. You have very kind eyes, you know. She must be a very lucky woman."</p><p>"Thank you. I'll remind her when I see her." He grabbed his overcoat and hat from the rack. "I'm Sidney. I hope you find what you're looking for. Have a good night, Abby."</p><p>He nodded at the librarian and went outside, putting on his hat and coat, but not his gloves. He drove back to the house in Mayfair, where Jonesy was waiting for him as he pulled up to the kerb in front of the townhouse. He got out of the car and handed the keys back to the driver.</p><p>"Good driving, sir?" Jonesy inquired, doffing his hat to him. </p><p>"Indeed, Jonesy." Sidney tapped the roof of the car. "The old girl gave me no trouble at all. Fine British engineering."</p><p>Jonesy grinned. "Glad to hear it, sir. I try to keep all of milord's vehicles in tip- top shape."</p><p>Sidney told him to keep up the good work before going up the steps to the front door of the house. He took off his hat and pressed the doorbell. It took about a minute, then Stadler opened the door.</p><p>"Ah, Canon Chambers, just in time. The family will be taking aperitif and appetizers in the drawing room in a half an hour, if you'd like to freshen up first."</p><p>Sidney laughed silently. It was obvious that the butler didn't approve of his current attire. "Thank you, Stadler. Where may I clean up?"</p><p>The butler raised one gray eyebrow. "I take it you haven't visited your room, sir? You have an ensuite bathroom for your convenience. All the guest rooms do."</p><p>Sidney thanked him again and bounded up the grand staircase. Before going into his own room, he knocked on Shun-Lien's door. He wanted to see how she was doing. </p><p>"Just a minute!" said a female voice from the other side.</p><p>He stepped back as the door creaked open about two inches and Shun-Lien peeked out. "Hi. How was your nap?"</p><p>"Oh, it's you." She opened her door all the way and allowed him inside, closing it behind him. "It was fine. I got some much needed shut-eye. So, where did you get up to?"</p><p>She was wearing a pink dressing gown and her thick, black hair was piled on top of her head in a curious disarray of curls and uncurled locks. She had multiple plastic pins holding the whole thing up. </p><p>Sidney noticed that Jing-Mei Chan was there, too, standing next to the vanity table and holding an electric curling iron. He acknowledged her with a nod and she smiled at him.  Hanging in front of the wardrobe was a long, emerald dress that appeared to be made of velvet. It had capped sleeves and a high collar like all of the dresses he'd seen Shun-Lien in so far. Interestingly enough, this particular dress had a long slit along the side.</p><p>"I went to see my sister and her boyfriend in Peckham," he told her. "Afterward, I went to the Guildhall Library to look at some old newspapers."</p><p>His fiancee looked at him warily. "Pertaining to the murders?"</p><p>"I don't know yet," Sidney said casually. He didn't want her to know that he was checking into the circumstances of her accident in fear that she would close up on him. "We're still in the early stages of the investigation. How much does your brother know about what's going on?" </p><p>She returned to the chair in front of the vanity mirror, so Miss Chan could continue to work on her hair. "Not much. He doesn't know about the notes. I haven't told him. But he's concerned about Judith Myers being found on our property. Mr. Stevens apprised him of what happened. And he's heard about poor Professor Rutherford dying in the library of his alma mater. As it turned out, he had the old man as his instructor."</p><p>She was still speaking in her posh British accent. Sidney wondered if this were her true accent. "Don't you think he should know about the notes?"</p><p>Shun-Lien glared at him. "Why, so he can send me away to the North Pole or something? I am tired of him trying to control my life, Sidney. I'll be damned if I let you control it, too."</p><p>Sidney held up his hands. "I have no fight with you. All I've ever wanted from the beginning is to protect you. You came to me because you said you need protection. Why are you pushing me away now?"</p><p>She stared at him defiantly for a moment, one half of her face partially covered by her hair, then her expression turned to despair. "I'm sorry, Sidney. I didn't mean to attack you. It's just this house. My brother makes me so defensive. Our father never really cared about me and my sister, but Lingshan is different. He is like a lion with us."</p><p>Sidney kneeled in front of her and took her hands in his. "He's trying to make up for your late father's deficiencies, can't you see that? He knows how badly your father neglected you and your sister, so he's trying to make up for it."</p><p>She smiled and the thin scar on the right side of her face that started at her jawline and cut across her chin then went down her neck puckered. "You are a good man, Sidney Chambers. You really try to see that bit of decency in everyone, don't you?"</p><p>Sidney chuckled and kissed her hand. It smelled like lavender. He wanted to linger for a bit and savor the scent on her skin, but Miss Chan was there, and he didn't want to embarrass her. "It's part of the job. I'd make a pretty poor clergyman if I didn't give people the benefit of the doubt."</p><p>"That's true." Shun-Lien laid her palm against his cheek. "You should get ready for supper. I didn't ask if you brought any suits. If not, what you're wearing is fine, then we can just visit Savile Row tomorrow and get you a couple of dinner jackets."</p><p>Sidney stood up, stung by her words. He knew she didn't mean to be offensive and was, in fact, trying to be helpful, but he was still insulted by the idea that she thought she could just buy him clothes. "I think Savile Row might be just beyond my price range," he said as casually as he could. "I don't think they sell dinner jackets for ten pounds. Besides, I brought a couple of suits. I won't embarrass you, my lady."</p><p>She stared up at him, stricken. "Oh, Sidney, that's not what I meant at all. I'm sorry if it came off that way. Of course you brought your own clothes. Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you."</p><p>Sidney patted her shoulder in comfort, having already forgiven her. "Don't worry about it. Water under the bridge. I'll just go freshen up and meet you in the drawing room in a few minutes, shall I?"</p><p>She smiled up at him, though it was a little uncertain this time, and nodded distractedly, turning to face the vanity mirror. "Sure. I'll see you soon, Padre."</p><p>Having been summarily dismissed, Sidney left her room and crossed the hall to his. The aquamarine suite was easily twice the size of his bedroom in the vicarage and was similar in layout to Shun-Lien's room. It had a large bay window like hers did with a window seat decorated with dark blue cushions. The motif was decidedly masculine, in shades of blue, green, and gray. The bed in the center of the room was larger than anything he had ever slept in. </p><p>The room also came with a wardrobe, a bureau, a writing desk, and a full-sized, three-way standing mirror, so that the gentleman could dress himself accordingly on his own even without the benefit of a valet, he supposed.  The paintings on the wall had a masculine theme, too. One was a Spanish galleon amongst angry waves and stormy seas, another was an old man with a large hat sitting in a boat on calm waters with a fishing pole in his hand, and yet another was two boys on a punt sailing down what Sidney quickly recognized as the River Cam. </p><p>The last one was a nude, olive-skinned woman with long, red hair, rising from the sea foam with her curly locks covering her breasts and a shell over her pubis. He realized it was Dione, the sea nymph who was the mother of Aphrodite by Zeus, only she had Asiatic features. Almond-shaped eyes that tilted upwards, high cheekbones; a short, thin nose, and a round, but strong chin. She looked a lot like Shun-Lien, but had fierce determination and quiet anger in her amber eyes. It slowly dawned on him that he might be looking at a portrait of the late marchioness painted as the Titan goddess. <em>Shun-Lien's mother</em>.</p><p>Sidney felt his face heat up and quickly looked away. He was just ogling his fiancee's mother. There had to be a special place in hell for a man like him: next to people who talked out loud in movie theaters or evacuated their bodily fluids indiscreetly in public. To distract himself, he searched the room for his luggage and garment bag, but was unable to locate them. He opened the wardrobe and found all of his clothes hanging neatly and freshly pressed, with his luggage and extra shoes on the floor. His socks, undershirts, and undergarments were in the bureau. He raised his eyebrows. A man could get used to service like this.</p><p>He pulled out his outfit from the wardrobe and laid it out on the bed. It was a simple dark blue suit made of gabardine, with a silk lining, that he had bought for his conferences in Italy, along with two more, for his nights out. He paid for them from a stipend provided by the church. Archdeacon Atubo said the Archbishop didn't want their district looking shabby. He had bought another when he got back to Cambridge at the urging of Atubo, who said he needed to start dressing more sharply.</p><p>He took off his teal blazer, white shirt, trousers, and underwear. On top of the laundry basket by the bathroom door was a note. In neat cursive that reminded him of Mrs. C's handwriting, it said: <em>"Canon Chambers, please put your soiled garments here. I will have them washed, pressed, and returned to your wardrobe by tomorrow. Much obliged, Higgins."</em> Sidney smiled and obeyed the note, reminding himself to thank her. Maybe he could give her a small token of his appreciation before he left London.</p><p>He went into the bathroom and saw that the shower and bath were combined. There was a sliding glass door that enabled a person to step into the bath and take a shower without getting water all over the place. The  toilet was just a few feet away, unlike in Shun-Lien's house, where it was in its own enclosed cube. Across the toilet was a stand-up sink with a mirror above it. Fresh, clean towels of varying sizes hung on racks. It was like being in a hotel.</p><p>Back at the vicarage, they only had a bath, so a shower was a rare indulgence for Sidney that he only got to experience in hotel rooms. He went inside the bath and encountered three knobs on top of the faucet for the tub. The one on the left had the letter H on it and the far right had the letter C on it. It was the same set-up he'd encountered before in hotel rooms, so he was fairly confident he knew how the whole thing worked. He turned on the cold water first and the water came out from the faucet on the bottom, then he turned on the hot water, adjusting the knobs until he had the right temperature. Then he twisted the middle knob so that the water would switch from the bottom faucet to the shower spout. Sidney sighed and just stood there for a moment, luxuriating in the warm water sluicing over his naked body after having been in the cold all day. Yeah, maybe he would take some of Shun-Lien's money if they could update the bathrooms in the vicarage and add a shower.</p><p>He slid open the shower door a crack so he could grab a washcloth, then closed it again. He lathered it with soap that smelled like sandalwood and bergamot and began to scrub himself from head to toe. The shampoo he found in the shower rack had the scent of tea tree oil and verbena. He poured a crown-sized bit into his palm and washed his hair thoroughly. He aimed to look nice for Shun-Lien. He didn't want her family to think that she brought home some ruffian. </p><p>He got out of the shower and patted himself dry with the softest, fluffiest towel he had ever laid hands on and thought to himself that there were definitely aspects to being rich that he could get used to, but ultimately, he would hate himself for the hypocrisy of it. How would he be able to preach perseverance and fortitude in times of hardship and scarcity if he had fluffy towels and hot water at the ready? </p><p>The wealthy vicar. He had always resented clergymen who had enriched themselves at the mercy of their parishioners. But it wouldn't be at the expense of his parishioners, would it? He would be marrying into money. He wouldn't be stealing it or taking it from anyone. </p><p>But there was just something... dirty about it. A man should be able to take care of his wife, not the other way around. He didn't want to be a gigolo to a rich noblewoman, although he knew it wouldn't be like that because Shun-Lien cared about him and respected his intelligence. But her offer to take him to Savile Row to get him dinner jackets still rankled. Were his clothes not good enough for her? Of course not! She was a millionaire who thought nothing of a trip to the famous street in Mayfair that boasted a gallery of shops that offered the best, but most expensive, most exclusive bespoke tailoring in the whole world. </p><p>He could feel a headache coming on. Why was he worrying about all of this? Shun-Lien may not even want to go through with the marriage. After all, she told him she merely wanted a fake fiancé. But she'd been acting so loving and affectionate toward him that he was convinced she returned his regard somewhat. He sighed. She'd proven herself to be a consummate actress, too.</p><p>He should be guarding his feelings around her. Jen always said that he wore his heart on his sleeve and that was why it got broken all the time. He thought he was through with love, but in the last few days he'd decided that he was lonely. Mrs. C was right. He needed a wife, a life companion, even if it weren't going to be Shun-Lien. He wanted to have children and a family of his own to care for, like Geordie did. He wanted someone to live for, especially on the days that were so dark that he couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag even if he tried. </p><p>He put on his suit, then his shoes, noticing that someone had polished his black Oxford leathers. He went up to the three-way mirror to check himself out from all angles and slid on a burgundy tie, which he knotted in a double Windsor.</p><p>The next thing he took care of was his hair, which he always combed to the left on a part. He added a bit of pomade so that his hair would cooperate and stay in place. The color was a dark mahogany when it was wet, but in the sun it was more strawberry blonde. In the summer, he was more blonde than a ginger, then it darkened again to light auburn in the fall. Without product, his hair had a tendency to spring up in its natural curl and venture to the middle, sometimes giving him what Amanda called a "kiss curl." He grew up thinking it was called a "spit curl" because one flattened it with spit.</p><p>He gave himself another once-over and thought he looked a little bit like a Cambridge don, which he would have been, had he taken the path Dr. Rutherford had suggested for him. He shook his head at his own reflection. God had a plan for him. He wished to heavens God would soon reveal what it was, but he was a patient man.</p><p>He left his bedroom at the same time Shun-Lien was exiting hers and for a moment, he just stood there, admiring her. She was wearing the velvet dress he saw earlier hanging from her wardrobe and looked like she was poured into it. He had never seen her in anything with short sleeves before tonight, but was still unable to see her arms because she wore black lace gloves that went up past her elbows. The tall collar of her dress had a small vee at the neckline, providing a peek at her delicate throat. The slit along the side displayed one bare leg, utterly perfect, the color of milk sweetened with honey.</p><p>The way the velvet clung to her body showed that she had high, rounded breasts shaped like apples, ample hips, and a waist he could probably encompass with his two hands. He cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling that the knot on his tie might be too tight. He forced himself to stop ogling her like some kind of pervert and looked up.</p><p>Her hair was styled so she looked like a Grecian goddess. Half of her curls were pinned to the back of her head, but half of them were loose to frame her face. He noticed that her hair was parted to the left and there the curls dipped low in a peekaboo style to hide the burn scars at her temple and the side of her face. She wore make-up, too, which covered up the scar on her chin. Kohl eyeliner emphasized the exotic upward tilt of her eyes and her lashes looked longer. Once again, her full lips were painted a deep red. </p><p>"You look..." Sidney stopped, at a loss for words. "Fantastic."</p><p>She winked at him, a coquette once again. "You clean up real nice yourself, Father."</p><p>"You don't have your cane?" He looked around their vicinity for it.</p><p>"No." A half smile curled up one corner of her lips. "I was hoping you'd escort me down, Father, and make sure I stay upright all night."</p><p>Sidney smiled and offered his elbow to her. "Shall we?"</p><p>"Oh, yes." She laughed softly and slipped her gloved hand into the crook of his arm. "This is a really spiffy suit. I'm sorry about... erm, earlier. I'm not really good with... uh, people."</p><p>He patted her fingers. "I think you do all right." They stopped before the elevator and he pressed the button to summon the cab up. When the elevator went "ding" and the doors slid open, Sidney took a deep breath and forced himself to smile. "After you."</p><p>"Here we go," Shun-Lien said as the doors slid close. She pressed the 1 button. "Hey, Chambers, look at me." She reached up to touch his face. "Did you know that I've been wanting to kiss you since the night of our engagement?"</p><p>Sidney forgot about everything else. He put his hands on her waist and pulled her close. He lowered his head. "Really?"</p><p>She stood on the tips of her toes and got really close to his lips. "Maybe later." The elevator doors slid open and she stepped out, keeping his hand firmly in hers. "Gotcha."</p><p>Sidney chuckled. He couldn't help it. She distracted him, so he wouldn't think about being trapped in the elevator. "You are a very clever woman."</p><p>She took his arm again. "Clever enough to pick you. You're the best of men, Sidney Chambers."</p><p>He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a side-hug, dropping a kiss on her fragrant hair. "I don't know about that. I try to be, but I'm still human and therefore bound to make mistakes."</p><p>She peeked up at him. "I'll be sure to remember that, so I can forgive you when you do."</p><p>The two of them entered the drawing room and Sidney was suddenly very glad he was wearing his tailored Italian suit because everyone was decked out to the nines. Lady Gemma was sitting on the sofa next to the fireplace wearing a velvet black dress with long sleeves and a plunging vee neckline. Around her throat was a diamond choker. Diamonds also decorated her ears. Her blond hair was swept up in a French braid, emphasizing a beautiful face free of wrinkles, despite her age.</p><p>Directly across her was Miss Lee who was wearing a red and gold cheongsam, her black hair also in an updo seemingly held in by fancy chopsticks that had tiny lamps and bells hanging from them. Next to her on the far side of the sofa was Lady Zöe who wore a dark blue, tea-length dress with no sleeves and showed off her pale shoulders. Her shiny, sable hair hung neatly down her back and kept away from her face with a pink headband. Sidney thought she almost looked like a schoolgirl.</p><p>Someone was at the grand piano, playing Chopin's "Nocturne" and he expected to see the marquess there, but instead it was a blond-haired young man wearing a dark suit. He couldn't see his face, for it was bent over the keys, but Sidney guessed it was Lord Ryan Fenwick, the gambler and thief of the paintings from Ravenwood Manor.</p><p>The marquess was standing at the bar in a suit cut similar to Sidney's, but it was dark gray, almost black. His tie was also similar to his, but a deeper red in color. His eyes immediately zoomed in on him and Shun-Lien the second they entered the drawing room. </p><p>"Ah, Canon Chambers," said Lord Ravenwood in his deep, sonorous voice. "Shun-Lien says you appreciate good scotch. I've got a Balvenie here from 1936. Single malt scotch whisky. Liquid gold. Would you like some?"</p><p>Sidney couldn't tell if this was some kind of test. Shun-Lien squeezed his arm. He looked down at her and she smiled reassuringly at him. "It's all right," she mouthed at him.</p><p>Sidney stepped forward and took the crystal snifter that Ravenwood handed to him. As the man was watching him, he stuck his nose in the snifter first and inhaled deeply. "Hints of caramel and vanilla. Woodsy. Cedar, I think." He breathed in some more. "And nutty, like walnut."</p><p>Ravenwood smiled slowly. "Very good, Canon Chambers. You have a sharp sense of smell. The cask was indeed made of cedar and aged for twenty years. It is one of the finest vintage for this particular scotch."</p><p>Sidney took a sip after a nod of approval from his host. He immediately tasted the caramel and cedar notes, then a hint of leather, burning wood, and dirt, but in a good way. A wonderful way. As he swallowed, he experienced the smoothness of silken fire sliding down his throat. Then finally, the nutty aftertaste of walnut. He had never tasted anything so fine. It was almost spiritual, like the ecstasies of Saint Teresa. That was sacrilege, he knew, but he couldn't think of another way to describe it.</p><p>"That," Sidney said, opening his eyes. "Is good scotch." </p><p>The marquess slapped him on the shoulder in bonhomie. "You may not be so bad, after all, Mr. Chambers."</p><p><em>"Floreat antiqua domus."</em> Sidney raised his snifter in a toast.</p><p>The marquess repeated the old house blessing of their alma mater and touched his glass with Sidney's. They both sipped their scotch.</p><p>From the sofa, Lady Zöe made a noise of disgust. "Are you <em>fucking</em> kidding me? My idiot brother has been bending over backwards for years just to get your attention and all this vicar had to do was taste your stupid scotch and tell you it's good? Unbelievable!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Dinner is Served</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney meets Lady Susan's younger half-brother, Ryan, and bears witness to more awkward Fenwick family dynamic. He clashes with Ryan when the young man openly disrespects Lady Susan.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Series 4 Sidney Chambers. He never left Grantchester and remained a vicar.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney froze with his drink in his hand and immediately glanced at Shun-Lien who had since managed her way to the sofa and was now sitting next to her aunt. He breathed a sigh of relief.</p>
<p>Next to him, the marquess had gone absolutely still and his amber eyes, the same color as aged whisky, focused on Lady Zöe. "You have deplorable manners. I will not have you disrespecting my guests under my roof, especially not your own sister!"</p>
<p>"This is our house, too!" Lady Zöe shot back. "It was Daddy's house and we grew up here!"</p>
<p>"This house belongs to the Marquess of Ravenwood. That was the title I inherited when our father died," Jordan Fenwick said in a rigid, tightly controlled tone. "Therefore, it is now my house, my rules. You are a twenty-five-year-old lady, not a teenage brat. If you want to keep living here, apologize to your sister and her fiance at once."</p>
<p>Throughout all this, Lady Zöe stared mulishly at her brother, her arms folded under her breasts and her chin jutting forward. She dropped her arms to her lap and rolled her eyes. She turned to face Shun-Lien who had been conferring quietly with her aunt. "Susan, I'm sorry I haven't been very nice to you. I had a hangover yesterday and my head was killing me. I'm very happy you're home to stay."</p>
<p>Sidney didn't believe a word she said and from the expression on Shun-Lien's face, she doubted the sincerity of her sister's words as well. On the other side of the room, the piano playing abruptly stopped and the young man came to stand behind his sister. He put a hand on her shoulder.</p>
<p>Lady Zöe pivoted toward Sidney with a sardonic smile. "You must accept my apology, too, vicar. It's your job, isn't it, to forgive and forget? I am just a lost soul in need of guidance."</p>
<p>Beside Sidney, the marquess grunted and took a sip of his scotch.</p>
<p>Sidney smiled at Lady Zöe. "Of course, my lady. As the disciple Luke says in the New Testament, Chapter Six, Verse Thirty-Seven: 'Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven.' Therefore, I forgive you."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien turned in her seat toward Sidney and their gazes met and held. Sidney was charmed to see her eyes alit with humor. She was laughing at him. Good. He loved making her laugh. She had seen enough sadness in her lifetime. Surely it was her time now to be happy? He swore to himself that no matter what he had to do, he would make it happen for her.</p>
<p>"Thank you, vicar," Lady Zöe said piously, bowing her head and joining her hands together on her lap. "That is a valuable lesson, indeed."</p>
<p>Sidney heard a soft snort and realized with amusement that it came from Miss Lee's direction. Though she had covered her face with her black lace fan, he could still see the redness of her cheeks and the mirth in her eyes. Across from her, Shun-Lien also had her fan spread out and was hiding the lower half of her face. Sidney was pleased to witness this moment of shared joy between the two women.</p>
<p>"Oh, come on, Zöe, stop screwing around," the younger man behind her said, lightly tugging on her hair. He looked up at Sidney, then went around the sofa, and took a step toward him, extending his hand. "I'm Lord Ryan Fenwick."</p>
<p>Sidney transferred his snifter to his other hand and shook the other man's. "I'm Sidney Chambers from Granchester."</p>
<p>Lord Ryan studied him from head to toe. "Fancy threads for a  vicar. Expensive tastes, too, it sounds like. I understand you're engaged to my older sister."</p>
<p>Sidney laughed inwardly and sipped his scotch. He knew what young Ryan was trying to imply. He wasn't even trying to be subtle. These pups, as Geordie would call them, were all bark and drool. "Yes, I am."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien stood then, though she struggled a little bit, so Sidney rushed to her side and steadied her. This time, she didn't resist him, only leaned into him like a lover seeking affection. He put an arm around her waist and guided her toward the bar where Ravenwood handed her a glass of champagne.</p>
<p>"Congratulations, Susan," said her younger half-brother with a mocking salute. "You searched the world far and wide, only to find your Prince Charming in some backwater village no one's ever heard of."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien drank her bubbly and laughed. "Ryan, you silly child. He went to Cambridge like our esteemed brother did. And he finished first in his class."</p>
<p>Sidney knew that comment had to have stung because Lord Ryan's face darkened and for a moment, he looked at Shun-Lien with pure hatred in his eyes. He remembered now that the young chap, much like his brother Matt, was sent down from Oxford for misbehavior.</p>
<p>"Cambridgeshire is hardly in the middle of nowhere," Lady Gemma commented airily. "I remember when you and Zöe used to visit your sick Aunt Bea out there twice a month to check on her welfare."</p>
<p>Jordan Fenwick snorted. "Bleed her dry, more like."</p>
<p>"A lot of good that did," Lady Zöe grumbled. "She donated all of her money to an animal preserve in Kenya."</p>
<p>Their older brother lifted one eyebrow. "Serves the two of you right, badgering that poor old woman that way. Aunt Bea was smart. She knew what you two were up to."</p>
<p>Lady Gemma cleared her throat rather loudly. "This is not the time to air dirty laundry. We do not want to scare off Mr. Chambers, do we?"</p>
<p>Lord Ryan scoffed. "He might as well find out early what kind of family he's marrying into. The dysfunctional Fenwick clan."</p>
<p>Sidney drained the rest of his scotch. Shun-Lien nestled closer to him, slipping her gloved hand into his suit jacket and laying her palm right on his stomach. "I don't scare easily." He lowered his head and kissed her temple. "I'd go through hellfire and brimstone for her." </p>
<p>"That's quite a declaration for a vicar," Lady Gemma mused with laughter in her voice. "I quite like him, Susan. So sincere and earnest. He'd be a welcome addition to this family."</p>
<p>Hannah came in just then carrying a silver tray filled with what looked like stuffed mushroom caps on little paper doilies. She looked around the room and stood in place, as if she sensed the mounting tension. Meanwhile, Sidney's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. He didn't get to eat the sandwiches at high tea because of Lady Zöe's tantrum.</p>
<p>Shun-Lien pinched him lightly. "I heard that. You must be hungry." She stepped forward and picked up a small plate from an end table. "Hannah?"</p>
<p>The maid looked surprised as though she'd never heard her name spoken by any of the Fenwicks before. "Yes, my lady?"</p>
<p>Shun-Lien smiled congenially. "I'd like some of those mushroom caps, please."</p>
<p>Hannah jumped into action and approached them, holding out the tray. Shun-Lien picked up a pair of small tongs and moved three of the mushrooms onto her plate. Hannah handed her a cloth napkin from her apron and Shun-Lien thanked her.  The maid then presented the tray to the marquess, who took two, before proceeding to offer the appetizer to the rest of the room.</p>
<p>Shun-Lien smiled up at him and lifted the plate. "To tide you over, <em>xiān sheng</em>. It's another eight minutes before dinner," she said with a quick glance at the wall clock. </p>
<p>Sidney picked up a mushroom cap and set down his empty snifter on the end table next to Shun-Lien's flute of champagne. He bit into it halfway, but it made a bit of a mess, so he just put the whole thing in his mouth. It was stuffed with lobster mousse accompanied by herbed cheese, celery, and green onions.</p>
<p>"Good, huh?" Shun-Lien teased, wiping the corner of his mouth with the cloth napkin before giving it to him. "Lingshan stole the Michelin-starred chef of Princess Sophia from Monaco. He pays him an absurd amount of money and gave him free rein of the kitchen. Higgins says he's an absolute terror."</p>
<p>Sidney finished chewing and wiped his hands on the cloth napkin. He laughed as his fiancee gave him her champagne to drink. "You're very obliging. I can get used to this."</p>
<p>"I take care of my man," she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Open up." She picked up another mushroom cap and held it up in front of his lips.</p>
<p>Sidney felt the heat rush up from his neck to his face when he realized everyone was watching them. Wait. Why should he be embarrassed? He and the lady were supposed to be in love. He met the gazes of everyone staring at them, then leaned forward, opened his mouth, and ate the mushroom cap right out of Shun-Lien's fingers. </p>
<p>Shun-Lien beamed at him with approval. "Don't let me corrupt you, Padre."</p>
<p>"Can't corrupt the already corrupted. I'm a sinner, my lady, through and through. I'm just trying to find my way back," he murmured in her ear. He drank her champagne and laughed at the skeptical expression on her face. "But if it's redemption you're offering, I'll take it."</p>
<p>Her smile dimmed and she dropped her gaze to the plate. "Don't look to me for your salvation, Sidney. I'll only lead you astray."</p>
<p>"Ugh, we get it, you're in love," Lady Zöe scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You don't have to put on a show for us, Susan. He's not marrying you for your money, fine, we get it."</p>
<p>"Well, I'm not convinced," Lord Ryan piped up with a smirk. "Look at this man," he gestured at Sidney, "he's handsome and slick. He's a vicar, so obviously he's hard up for cash. Then our sister comes along and she's, let's face it, no spring chicken anymore--"</p>
<p>"Lad, if you value your pretty face, you'd stop talking right about now." Sidney set down the glass of champagne. He heard himself say the words, but he didn't sound like himself. He wasn't angry, not really, but he uttered the words with a certain coldness that he rarely ever experienced. "You will not insult your sister again, not in my presence. Not ever." </p>
<p>Ryan glared at him, then glanced around the room as if looking for backup. Can you believe this guy? he seemed to ask. But Lady Gemma merely watched the scene as though it were a farce put on for her pleasure. Miss Lee appeared busy studying the lace patterns on her fan. The marquess was pouring himself another serving of scotch. Even Lady Zöe herself had suddenly found her cuticles interesting.</p>
<p>"Who are you to talk to me that way? You're a nobody!" Lord Ryan jeered, his wholesome public school handsomeness distorted by his fury. "Who do you think you are?"</p>
<p>Sidney was more amused than anything. Even Shun-Lien, who was bracing herself on her good leg and had her hand on his hip, was watching her brother with the detached fascination of a spectator witnessing an ape on a bicycle. Neither of them had to respond to the younger man's outburst. He was doing just fine, making a fool of himself. </p>
<p>"All right, I've had enough of this melodrama," the marquess declared. "Let us now adjourn to the dining room before I decide to kick out the whole lot of you." He slapped Sidney on the back. "Good show, vicar. Give me your glass so I can top you off."</p>
<p>Sidney grinned and passed the crystal snifter to the marquess. As if he could say no to that. "Much obliged, Ravenwood." </p>
<p>The marquess inclined his head in acknowledgement, then went up to his aunt to offer her his arm. The two of them led the way to the dining room, followed by the two younger Fenwick siblings, and Miss Lee after them. Sidney and Shun-Lien brought up the rear and took their time.</p>
<p>"Can't say I've had worse evenings," he murmured to Shun-Lien, who elbowed him. "I have a beautiful woman on my arm and a glass of the best scotch I've ever had in my life. Things are going pretty well."</p>
<p>Soo-Lin poked him in the ribs. "The night is not over, <em>tián xīn</em>. A meteor could still crash into this house, you know."</p>
<p>Sidney slid her a sideway glance. "Why so pessimistic? No great disaster has befallen us so far. Maybe you should have a sip of this." He offered her his scotch.</p>
<p>She took his glass and took a sip. "Gosh, that's good. Oh, let me have another sip." She tippled again. "My brother never lets me drink scotch. He doesn't think it's a lady's drink. He thinks all we drink are tea and sherry." She gave it back to him. "I haven't told my brother about the notes, Sidney. That's when it would all hit the fan. We're just here to satisfy their curiosity about you, so we can go back to Cambridgeshire and deal with our problem there."</p>
<p>Sidney took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He had been thinking about this and considered that maybe it would be easier to draw out the killer in London. They had more resources here and Shun-Lien would be safer here than she was in Ravenwood Manor. </p>
<p>She stilled against him and put a hand on his middle to stop him from going forward. "What's wrong, <em>xiān sheng</em>? Do you have something on your mind?"</p>
<p>"When you get to know me better, Shun-Lien, you'll realize that I'm always thinking." He forced himself to relax and smile at her. "Geordie hates it when I space out on him and 'go somewhere else,' as he calls it."</p>
<p>"It's that big brain of yours, Father." She grinned at him and patted his lower back. "There really are many layers to you."</p>
<p>"I should hope so. What would a shallow vicar have to offer?"</p>
<p>They reached the dining room and Sidney saw that there were place cards on top of the plates. The marquess was seated at the head of the table, of course, with his aunt on his left, and his two younger siblings. On the right, Sidney read, were himself, Shun-Lien, and Miss Lee. He and Shun-Lien were the last ones to take their places because they hung back and talked.</p>
<p>He pulled out Shun-Lien's chair for her and pushed it back in once she was seated. He did the same for Miss Lee, who had remained standing because she was waiting for them. Only then did he sit down and take another well deserved sip of his scotch. Lady Gemma met his eyes across the table and nodded at him.</p>
<p>Higgins and Hannah took away the plates and place cards and replaced them with shallow white bowls. Afterward, the chef came around and talked about the first course, which was a lobster and tomato bisque, before carefully ladling it into all their bowls. Stadler followed closely behind him, adding a dollop of cream on top of the soup. </p>
<p><em>"Voilà!"</em> said the chef before retreating once more into the kitchen.</p>
<p>Sidney spread his napkin on his lap, waited for the marquess to take his first spoonful of the soup, then followed after him. Stadler went up to the marquess and poured a small portion of red wine into his master's glass. The marquess picked it up, tasted it, and nodded. Stadler then proceeded to pour the wine for everyone around the table. </p>
<p>"So, Susan," Lady Zöe began casually. "Does this mean you're going to have to live in a stinky, old vicarage and visit elderly and sick people once you're married?"</p>
<p>Shun-Lien set down her soup spoon and dabbed at her mouth.  "Of course. I will be a helpmate to Mr. Chambers as well as his wife. I've been to the vicarage. It's a perfectly lovely and cozy home to live in."</p>
<p>Lord Ryan sneered, pushing aside his soup and reaching for his red wine. "Isn't 'cozy' just a polite word for small? You've lived in palatial homes all your life, Susan. You won't even have room for your servants."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien glanced at Sidney, who flashed her a brief smile, then turned back to her younger brother. "I won't need servants, Ryan. I can take care of myself and Mr. Chambers. Besides, Mr. Chambers already has a lovely housekeeper in Mrs. Chapman."</p>
<p>"Aren't you scared that people will ask about your scars? I would be mortified." Lady Zöe remarked, crinkling her nose. "You can't go walking around in a veil. People will think the vicar married a weirdo. I would never leave the house, if I were you. And it's not exactly ideal to be hobbling about the village with a limp, is it?"</p>
<p>Sidney tried to think of a verse in the Bible that would temper his anger at the moment, but couldn't come up with one. What did Gandhi have to say about it? Abuse should be met by forbearance.  Human nature is so constituted that if we take absolutely no notice of anger or abuse, the person indulging in it will soon weary of it and stop. That sounded good. If they just ignored the two brats, they'd get sick of their bullying and stop. Good theory, Gandhi, but bullies never stopped until a bigger bully stopped them.</p>
<p>"She won't have a limp much longer," said Miss Lee quietly, on the other side of Sidney. "Next month, we are going to Switzerland, so Susan can have surgery to reset the bones in her leg."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien pushed Sidney back against his chair, so she could reprimand her cousin. "Jifei!"</p>
<p>The other woman bowed her head and dropped her gaze to her hands. "I'm sorry if I spoke out of turn, my lady."</p>
<p>"Jesus, Suze," Lady Zöe said with disgust. "You've got her trained like a pet monkey."</p>
<p>"That's enough." Lady Gemma pounded her fist on the table, causing the cutlery and glasses to shake. Her frigid tone sliced through the developing tension in the dining room. "Younger Fenwicks, if you will not behave yourselves, you must leave the table at once and miss out on Monsieur Ludo's lovely dinner."</p>
<p>"Zöe," drawled the marquess. "Do you really want to keep antagonizing your meal ticket?"</p>
<p>The young woman glared at her older brother. "What are you talking about?"</p>
<p>The marquess picked up his glass of scotch and took in a mouthful. He seemed to hold it in for a moment, savoring it, before he swallowed it. "You don't think I haven't been tracking your bank accounts, little sister? I've known that Shun-Lien has been depositing money into yours and your brother's account for several months now. The question is why?"</p>
<p>Shun-Lien reached out and put her hand over her brother's hand. She spoke to him in Chinese. The marquess responded in kind. </p>
<p>Miss Lee turned to Sidney and translated in a whisper, "She said, 'Must we speak about this now?' and my lord answered, 'If not now, when?'"</p>
<p>Sidney whispered back, "Thank you," then turned back to Shun-Lien. </p>
<p>"Oh, not this again," grumbled Lady Zöe. "I ought to learn this silly language without telling any of you."</p>
<p>"That's a wonderful idea, dear," exclaimed Lady Gemma. "I'm a big proponent of women always striving to expand their minds. Mind you, Mandarin is much easier to learn than Cantonese. I could never get the tones right. That's why I prefer Mandarin."</p>
<p>The two elder Fenwick siblings continued to argue with each other in Chinese, but in furious whispers so that even Miss Lee couldn't hear them to translate for Sidney. The other people at the dinner table began to get restless, so Lady Gemma cleared her throat and tapped the marquess's arm.</p>
<p>Sidney touched Shun-Lien's back and leaned close. "Are you all right, my sweet? What were you talking to your brother about?"</p>
<p>"Just how I'm handling my money." She sighed. "He's hoping once I'm married that my husband will manage my money better than I do." She raised her eyes to meet his gaze.</p>
<p>"Erm," Sidney muttered. "I'm rubbish with money. I already told your brother I don't want it. You're better off hiring someone to take care of it for you."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien chuckled softly. "I know, Chambers. I already have a solicitor who takes care of my funds. He's an old friend of my mother." She touched his cheek. "Honestly, the look on your face just now."</p>
<p>When Stadler came around to check on them, Lady Gemma told him that they were ready for the next course. Higgins and Hannah came to take away the bowls, even though Sidney hadn't had the chance to fully enjoy his bisque. Minutes later, Chef Ludo returned and served a cold fish salad that he called a gazpacho. </p>
<p>Sidney pointed to his dish with a small fork. "I don't think I've had anything like this before."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien patted his hand. "You'll like it. It's gingery and flavorful. I like it very much." </p>
<p>The rest of the dinner went without incident because Lady Gemma or Ravenwood were quick to shut down any hint of impertinence from the younger Fenwicks. Shun-Lien spoke of her travels abroad and Sidney was fascinated by how she seemed to blossom when people paid attention to her as she told her stories. She laughed easily and her eyes were bright with life. Even her younger siblings seemed momentarily enchanted with her. </p>
<p>After dinner, Ravenwood asked everyone to adjourn to the family parlor for drinks. Lady Gemma excused herself to retire for the evening. Sidney spotted an ashtray on an end table and heaved a sigh of relief. He asked the marquess if he could smoke and the man said he would join him. </p>
<p>"Do you smoke cigars, Mr. Chambers?" Ravenwood rang a bell and Hannah appeared a short time later. "My dear, will you go up to my study, look in the second drawer on the left of my desk, and fetch me the wooden box that's in there?"</p>
<p>Hannah curtsied and obeyed immediately. </p>
<p>"I haven't had the pleasure," said Sidney, sipping his scotch as he watched Shun-Lien and Miss Lee settle on the sofa together. Meanwhile, the younger Fenwicks sprawled themselves on the settee like a couple of drunks.</p>
<p>Ravenwood smiled. "Then you're in luck. I've just acquired some premium Cohiba cigars from Cuba. I had the devil of a time getting them here. Cost me an arm and a leg, too, but worth every shilling."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien had described her brother as a humble man, but obviously, he was still raised in luxury and therefore used to the finer things in life. Sidney didn't know of any other police officer who lived in a mansion, drove a Ferrari, wore Savile Row suits, and smoked Cuban cigars. Other than the fictional detective, Roderick Alleyn of Ngaio Marsh's book series about a police officer who was also an aristocrat. And he was pretty sure Alleyn didn't drive a Ferrari.</p>
<p>Hannah returned with the wooden box, which she handed over quickly to her master. Once the marquess said thank you, she curtsied and squirreled away again.</p>
<p>"Now that is one fine-looking girl," said Lord Ryan lazily. "I think she's a Scot. I wonder if the red hair on her head matches--"</p>
<p>Ravenwood's head whipped toward his brother. "Don't even think about it. If you touch one hair on that girl's head, you'll have to answer to me."</p>
<p>The younger man sneered, as though he couldn't sense the anger that was simmering just right under his brother's skin. "Why? Is she yours?"</p>
<p>Sidney placed his hand on the marquess's shoulder and felt the other man take a deep breath to get himself under control. Sidney patted him on the back before dropping his hand to his side.</p>
<p>"No, Ryan. But she does work for me and while she is in my employ, she is under my protection. I won't have you harassing her. Understand?"</p>
<p>Lord Ryan answered with a mock salute. "Yes, your majesty."  He looked at his watch and got up from the settee. "Well, this has been great fun, but I've got a thing." He smirked at Shun-Lien on the sofa. "Good to have you home, Suze. Let's have lunch at the Savoy, maybe!"</p>
<p>After that, he took off for the foyer, whistling a tune unfamiliar to Sidney. He heard him call good night to Stadler, then the front door slammed shut a moment later.</p>
<p>"Okay!" Lady Zöe pronounced, springing up to her feet. "I'm bored, too, so I'm gonna go to my club. Brother, you don't mind if I have Jonesy drive me there, do you? It's late and I'm all by my little lady lonesome." She said the last part with a pout.</p>
<p>"If it's late, you should be getting ready for bed," her older brother sardonically.  </p>
<p>"Don't be a stick, Jordan," she said with a scowl. "It's Thursday night and they always have a live band on Thursdays. Besides, all my girlfriends will be there."</p>
<p>Ravenwood appeared annoyed, but he sighed and said, "Fine, just stay out of the papers and don't get yourself killed. I'll never hear the end of it from your mother."</p>
<p>Lady Zöe went around the settee and dashed up to her brother. "I'm rather financially embarrassed at the moment. Could you front me a hundred quid?"</p>
<p>Sidney was astonished. Here was a young lady asking her brother to loan her a hundred pounds as though it were a fiver for cigarettes and a fifth of gin. He himself made only forty-five pounds a month. He slid the marquess a sideway glance to see how he would react.</p>
<p>He looked fairly apoplectic. "Zöe, I just gave you your allowance two weeks ago. How could you have spent one thousand pounds already?"</p>
<p>Sidney excused himself from the exchange, though he doubted the pair even noticed he was gone, and went to join Shun-Lien and Miss Lee on the sofa. The two women were speaking Chinese and laughing softly as though they had been reminiscing. Sidney felt bad for interrupting, but Shun-Lien had already seen him and made a spot for him between herself and her cousin.</p>
<p>"If you'd rather I sat somewhere else..." Sidney began shyly. </p>
<p>"You're not interrupting anything important, Sidney," Shun-Lien said, patting his arm. "Jifei was just reminding me about the time I was willing to fork over eighty Hong Kong dollars for a piece of red ribbon for my hair, but she bartered it down to thirty. She said I was getting swindled because I didn't look Chinese enough."</p>
<p>Red ribbon, Sidney thought, studying her smiling face. She really was at the center of the two murders and the red ribbons were a signal to her. He realized now more than ever that he would risk his life, if it came to it, in order to save hers. </p>
<p>"That's terrible," he said, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. </p>
<p>She caught his hand. "Don't, Sidney, please. My sister is right. How can I possibly expect to visit your parishioners wearing a veil and not speaking? I'm not supposed to know how to speak English. And even if I brought along my cousin as a translator, where would she live? There's no room in the vicarage for her!"</p>
<p>Sidney's heart skipped a beat. Again, she was speaking as though the engagement were real and she intended to go with the marriage. "We can expand the vicarage to add a couple of bedrooms. We'll need to add a nursery eventually, won't we?"</p>
<p>"Will we?" Shun-Lien ducked his gaze and began to play with her fan. </p>
<p>"Excuse me," said Miss Lee. "I need to speak with Jing-Mei about something before she goes up to bed."</p>
<p>Shun-Lien reached up to clasp her hand. "Thank you, Jifei."</p>
<p>Miss Lee smiled vaguely.  "For what? I'll come see you before I turn in."</p>
<p>Sidney placed his hand on Shun-Lien's knee, so that she would turn around to face him. "Are you tired? Do you want me to escort you upstairs to your bedroom?"</p>
<p>She pressed herself close to him and nodded against his neck. "Why do I feel so safe with you? The moment you touched me, I just knew that I could trust you. I tried not to get my feelings involved, but... <em> Damn it, Sidney, you shouldn't have kissed me!"</em></p>
<p>She sounded so aggrieved that Sidney almost felt like a cad for kissing her that night. "Wait a minute, you asked me to kiss you. You said it was to seal our engagement."</p>
<p>"Oh, Sidney, I know. I just didn't expect..." She stopped and nestled even closer to him. "Will you take me to my room now?"</p>
<p>He slid his arm around her and assisted her in standing up. "The procedure in Switzerland, how risky is it?"</p>
<p>She peeked at him with dread on her face. "Sidney, not now. Can we talk about this later? Right now, I just want to go to bed."</p>
<p>The notion of bed triggered all sorts of unwelcome images in Sidney's head. God, he needed a drink or a smoke. Or both. Maybe he could sneak away and go to a pub after Shun-Lien had gone to sleep. "Then, come along, my lady. Let's get you to bed." <em>Bed</em>. There's that word again.</p>
<p>They started to walk toward the elevator when the marquess called him back. "Will you come up to my study and meet with me, Mr. Chambers? We haven't had our cigars."</p>
<p>Sidney tightened her hold on Shun-Lien. "I'll just escort Lady Susan to her room and I'll be right with you, my lord."</p>
<p>Ravenwood raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.</p>
<p>Lady Zöe bumped into Sidney on her way out, muttering, "Oh, well, fifty quid is better than nothing." </p>
<p>Shun-Lien grabbed her arm. "Hold on, I don't want you running out of money while you're out there." She dug into her side where there was a hidden pocket on her dress that Sidney didn't notice and pulled out a bill. "Here." She pressed it into her sister's hand.</p>
<p>"Thank you, Susan, you always come through." Lady Zöe kissed her on the cheek and dashed out the front door.</p>
<p>"Shun-Lien, why?" the marquess asked, sounding not angry, but frustrated. </p>
<p>"She's an impetuous girl, <em>gēgē</em>. I don't want her getting into trouble over money. Not when I have so much of my own."</p>
<p>Ravenwood sighed audibly. "Go and take her up  to her room, Mr. Chambers, then come see me in my study."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Sidney Takes Lady Susan to Bed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sidney escorts Lady Susan to her boudoir where they share an intimate moment that nearly tempts Sidney beyond his control. He also sits down for a private meeting with the Marquess of Ravenwood to discuss Lady Susan's safety.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is Series 4 Sidney Chambers who never left Grantchester and remained a vicar.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sidney closed the bedroom door behind him, while Shun-Lien reached for her cane propped next to the vanity table and made her way toward the settee at the foot of her bed. He observed the graceful line of her back and the flash of bare leg through the side slit of her dress as she walked. </p><p>When she reached the settee, she peeked at him over her shoulder and said, "Will you help me with the zipper of my dress? I can't quite reach it."</p><p>Sidney swallowed hard. What was she doing to him? She had to know the kind of effect she had on him. She was a striking, desirable woman. He wasn't a eunuch, for Pete's sake, and he wasn't planning on being celibate by any means. "Shouldn't you wait for Miss Chan or Lee to assist you? I wouldn't make a very good lady's maid, I'm afraid."</p><p>She scoffed. "<em>Xiān sheng</em>, honestly. I'm just asking you to unzip my dress. I'm not asking you to give me a sponge bath." She slowly unrolled her lace gloves down her elbows, off her fingers, and tossed them both over her shoulders. "Come on, Sidney, I want to get into my nightgown. I still have to brush my teeth and wash off my makeup."</p><p>He closed his eyes, counted backwards from forty-five to get his urges under control, and then pushed off from the door to carefully approach her, trying to appear cool and calm, not like an overeager schoolboy with his first girl. When he was right behind her, he took a moment to savor the fragrance of her hair. She smelled like jasmine and lemons. He thought he might go mad if he didn't find out soon whether she smelled like that all over. The backs of her knees, between her breasts, behind her ears, at the apex of her thighs...</p><p>She pushed her hands beneath her hair, twisted it, and held the thick rope above her head. Sidney had to resist the impulse to press his lips to the perfect patch of lightly tanned skin at the nape of her neck. He surveyed the length of the zipper. It went all the way down to the small of her back. His hand shook as he reached for the tab of the zipper and slowly pulled it all the way down to where it ended. </p><p>To his surprise, she wore no camisole nor bra. What he was viewing was the full expanse of her smooth, silky back from the delicate arches of her shoulder blades, the elegant curve of her spine, to the two glorious indentations--the dimples of Venus-- where the small of her back met the top of her derriere. </p><p>"All done," he said in a gravelly voice that he almost didn't recognize as his own. "If that's all, I'll bid you good night. Your brother is waiting for me at his study--"</p><p>"No, that's not all," she said and he could have sworn it sounded like a purr. With one hand, she slid off the panels of her dress from her shoulders and let the whole thing drop to the floor until she stood before him in only a thin pair of black cotton knickers that barely covered the downward curve of her buttocks. After that, she freed her hair and the entire column cascaded down to cover her back like a black waterfall.</p><p>Sidney clenched his fists at his sides and gritted his teeth. "Shun-Lien, I am only a human male who is extremely attracted to you. I'm afraid it is not wise for me right now to be standing here with you alone while you're in this state of... <em>déshabillé</em>."</p><p>She laughed and the earthiness of it made him want to grab her. "<em>Déshabillé</em>? <em>Tián xīn</em>, I'm more <em>nue,</em> don't you think?"</p><p>He cleared his throat and wondered if she would think him indecent if he were to excuse himself at this moment to use her facilities so he could adjust himself within his pants. "Erm, no. You still have your knickers on." He closed his eyes again and tried to remember all the names of the books in the Old Testament of the KJV.</p><p>"Why, Father, I thought the clergy were known for their iron-clad self-control." She reached for a flimsy garment no thicker than a cheese cloth draped over the footboard and gave it to him. "Help me put it on, please. It opens in the front, like a dressing gown."</p><p>He took the garment and couldn't resist bringing it up to his nose. Jasmine and lemons. He spread out the thin cotton night rail with its satin lapels and held it open, so that Shun-Lien could slip her slender arms in the wide sleeves. Once it was on, he gently untucked her mass of hair now covered by the night rail and once again set it wild and free along her back. He wanted to grab handfuls of it and inhale the very essence of her, if he could. Instead, he stroked the length of it, luxuriating in its silky softness. Dear God, he was becoming obsessed with her. He took a step backward, appalled.</p><p>"I should really go," he managed, though his throat was as dry as the Sahara. "Your brother asked for a meeting. I shouldn't keep him waiting."</p><p>She undid the gold clasp that restrained half of her hair for the evening so that the entire volume of it came tumbling down like an avalanche of black curls. "We're engaged and he knows you're putting me to bed. He can wait a little longer." </p><p>She turned around to face him and Sidney was mystified by how sheer the material of her night rail was. She had pulled locks of her hair forward so they tenuously covered her breasts, but he could still see her stomach, her navel, and the black shadow of her knickers. He took another careful step backward. He could feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "Shun-Lien, I don't know what game you're playing, but I am not a saint. I can only take so much before I shove you onto that bed and--"</p><p>She grinned. "Have your wicked way with me?"</p><p>Sidney shook his head as she advanced toward him. He had to get out of here before the walls closed in on him and he lost control of himself. "My lady, are you trying to prove something? If so, you should know that I desire you as a man would a woman very much. I want nothing more than to take you to bed right now and make love to you all night."</p><p>"All night?" Her wild, curly mane set loose, framing her face and upper body, made her look like a mysterious, witchy woman. "I don't think I've met a man who's made that promise before."</p><p>Sidney feared she would eat him alive and he was about to allow her. "Maybe you haven't met the right man till now." He could barely get the words out of his mouth. He felt as though he was losing his sense of self and something primal was about to take over.<em> Want. Claim. Have</em>. This was not good. He had sworn to protect her, not to ravish her. </p><p>"Relax, Sidney, I just want to talk to you for a bit. We haven't been truly alone at all today," she said, draping herself on the settee as though her leg didn't pain her at all. "On the desk, I have a record player with Billie Holiday on cue. Will you play it?"</p><p>Sidney did as she asked and as the song "Until The Real Thing Comes Along" serenaded him, he drifted back to Shun-Lien's side and sat on the spot she showed him. There was something about Billie Holiday's raspy, fragile contralto that reminded him of Shun-Lien's wispy, husky voice. Her speech always had that sensual, sleepy quality of a person waking up from a languorous nap asking "What time is it," no matter what language she spoke.</p><p>"Maybe this isn't the Mermaid Suite tonight, but the Siren's," he murmured, stroking Shun-Lien's cheek with his knuckles. "What is it exactly that you need from me tonight, my lady? Please let me know so that I may adjust my behavior accordingly."</p><p><em>"I'd be a beggar or a knave for you,"</em> Billie Holiday crooned. <em>"If that isn't love, it will have to do. Until the real thing comes along..."</em></p><p>She grasped his hand, turned it over and planted a kiss in the middle of his palm. "I don't know, Sidney. I just know that whenever you touch me, every part of my body seems to hum. When I first saw you in my drawing room, I had the strangest feeling of déjà vu like I have known you in a past life."</p><p>He couldn't explain it, either, but he had believed from the very beginning that he was drawn to her for a reason. "You must know that I feel the same way or I never would have proposed to you in truth. I hold you in highest regard." </p><p>She leaned toward him and briefly kissed his lips. "Will you stay for a few minutes and lie with me on the bed, Sidney? I only want you to hold me."</p><p>"If that is what you wish." He could do this for her. He could put a leash on his animal urges and just hold her without molesting her. He stood and pulled her up right along with him. Without warning, he bent over so he could put his arm behind her knees, then lifted her up easily as he rose again to carry her to the bed. </p><p>"Sidney," she protested with a breathy laugh. "Put me down, you ridiculous man."</p><p>He embraced her tightly against his chest and buried his face in her hair, while he traveled the few feet to the side of her bed. He deposited her in the middle, then took off his suit jacket, which he placed at the foot of the bed, and tugged his necktie loose so it wasn't strangling him. Only then did he swing his leg onto the mattress and get on the bed next to her.</p><p>She immediately cuddled up with him and he gathered her in his arms. He kissed her cheek, forehead, and the tip of her nose. She lifted her face so that their mouths met together and locked for several moments, their hands caressing and stroking each other, whatever body part they could reach. And then she pulled away, gasping.</p><p>She turned in his arms so that her bottom was firmly nestled against his middle, or rather his nether regions, and if she wiggled a little more as she tried to make herself more comfortable, she was bound to discover the evidence of the effect she was having on him and that would just be embarrassing for everyone on this bed.</p><p>But he held her, one arm over her head and the other resting under the weight of her breasts, around her ribcage. He tried to match his breathing to hers and soon, it seemed that they were in sync, down to their heartbeats. He told himself he was content with embracing her, that he didn't want to mold his hand over her curves as Billie Holiday sang, <em>"I'll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places, that this heart of mine embraces..."</em></p><p>"I should go," Sidney whispered, running up his hand from the flat of her stomach to the curve of her breast. Her nipple instantly pebbled beneath his palm. "Ravenwood is waiting for me."</p><p>She covered his hand with her own. "What will you tell him, Sidney?"</p><p>He froze. He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to face him. "Is that what these last few minutes have been about? Have you been trying to distract me from trying to talk to your brother?"</p><p>Her eyes widened and she looked absolutely mortified. "My God, Sidney, what must you think of me! I asked you up here so we can be alone together, because I've been yearning for your attention. How can you think something so... deceitful of me?"</p><p>Sidney sat up and raked a hand through his hair. "Because I never know who I'm going to get with you, Shun-Lien or Susan or Soo-Lin! You're either American or British. You speak Chinese, French, or English at your whim. You're either a shy maiden or a seductress. I never know where I stand. In a span of a week, I've been so jumbled up and twisted inside that I don't even know what's up or down anymore!"</p><p>The expression of devastation on her face was his undoing. She had sat up, too, and seemed to have withdrawn into herself, hugging her arms to her stomach and rocking slightly. "You don't know what I've had to go through in order to have a chance at a new life. You couldn't know the pain and loss I've suffered. I've had to be everything for everyone for three years." </p><p>When he reached out to touch her, she dodged his hand. "I'm sorry, Shun-Lien. I wish you'd tell me the real story. You said you feel safe with me. I want to be the person to whom you can reveal your true self." Whomever that may be, he added silently.</p><p>"I can't believe you could accuse me of such a thing, Sidney," she said, her voice tremulous with tears. "I've never faked affection for you. I genuinely like you." </p><p>He drew her to him. She resisted at first, but soon she was slipping her arms around his neck and crying on his chest. "I'm sorry, Shun-Lien. It was wrong of me to doubt you." </p><p>But was it? he asked himself. She'd been lying to him from the very start. Maybe he needed time away from her because he needed to think. He could barely form a coherent thought in his head when she was around. Her mere presence just blotted everything else around her. For him, anyway. When he was with her, she was all that mattered. Perhaps she truly was a siren. </p><p>"Oh, Sidney, if you knew the whole truth about me, you'd hate me," she sniffled, laying her head on his shoulder. "I wouldn't be able to bear your hatred."</p><p>He stroked her hair and back, kissing her scarred temple and eyebrow. "Try me. I'm a vicar, you know. I'm a lot more understanding than the average man."</p><p>She snorted as she laughed into his shirt. "Oh, I'm getting snot and drool all over you." She accepted the handkerchief that Sidney pressed into her hand. "You seem to have an unlimited supply of these things. Do you pull them out of thin air?"</p><p>Sidney smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Mrs. C thinks a gentleman should always have two or three of them on hand to give to ladies in distress. I use so many that she started making them out of old bed sheets."</p><p>"You encounter many ladies in distress in your line of work, I imagine?" she remarked, teasing him.</p><p>The heaviness in Sidney's chest eased once he saw a shadow of a smile on her face. She was going to be all right. For now, at least. "I'm a vicar." He spread his hands before him. "People see fit to unburden themselves on me."</p><p>She kissed him on the cheek. "Not just that. There's inherent goodness in you, Sidney. People believe in you to fix things and make everything better."</p><p>He laughed a little bitterly and shook his head. "I'm not always successful. Whenever you think I'm getting a little too high in my britches, just mention the name 'Gary Bell,' will you?"</p><p>She slipped her arm through his and together they both dangled their legs over the bed, as it was high enough that Sidney's legs dangled too. "You're helping me more than you could ever know, Sidney. I wouldn't have been able to remove my veil, even for my aunt, if you hadn't been next to me. You give me courage."</p><p>Sidney put his hand on her chin and turned her face toward him. He kissed her scarred temple, caressed the far side of her face that had been marred by the fire. It extended to her left ear before cutting down to her jaw and going down the side of her neck; the reason she wore high-collared dresses, Sidney suspected. He kissed both of her eyelids shut, her chin, and the tip of her nose before he covered her lips with his own.</p><p>She moaned into his open mouth and raised her arms to wrap around his neck, leaving the night rail gaping open. Sidney deepened the kiss and drew her closer to him. She tasted like the raspberries they had for dessert. His hand stroked down her shoulder to her hip, then hovered near the opening of her night rail. When his palm made contact with her bare waist, she gasped out loud.</p><p>Sidney broke off the kiss and the two of them stared at each other in wonder. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, yanking his hand back. "I didn't mean... I mean, of course, I meant it, but if I shocked you in any way..."</p><p>Her fingers drifted to her slightly swollen lips. "No, it was all amazing. I just haven't been touched by a man like that in such a long time. You caught me by surprise, that's all."</p><p>"Well, then, I think this is a good place for us to stop." Sidney told himself he had to let go of her and used all of his remaining will power to do it. He stood next to the bed and cleared his throat. Then he straightened his tie. "I hope your brother won't think too poorly of me. I've kept him waiting."</p><p>Shun-Lien rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't worry about him. He's probably been on the phone with his latest inamorata. Aunt Gemma told me he's been seeing this fashion model from Italy for a month now." She gestured him to sit back down with her. "You've got lipstick marks all over your face and neck. I have to clean you up."</p><p>He allowed Shun-Lien to wipe off the lipstick stains with his own handkerchief, which she then returned to him. "Do I look presentable now?"</p><p>Her lips puckered, then she twisted it to the side as looked at him consideringly. "Nope. Let me fix your hair." She knelt next to him and proceeded to comb and reshape his hair with her fingers, before leaning back to study her work. "You'll pass. Now that you no longer look like you just left an Oriental cathouse."</p><p>Sidney almost choked on his own laughter. "You say the most outrageous things sometimes."</p><p>She raised one eyebrow. "And you're easily shocked for a vicar. I bet people tell you all sorts of salacious stories."</p><p>He shrugged, admitting nothing. "Ecclesiastical privilege, my dear." He stood up again and put on his suit jacket. "Well, I better go see your brother. Look, don't worry. He's probably just going to ask about my true intentions regarding you."</p><p>She smirked. "And what will you say?"</p><p>Sidney winked, making her giggle. He lived for the light that brightened her face when she was happy. "Oh, I have nothing but the purest intentions, of course." </p><p>She pulled his arm, tugging him closer to her. "Will you come see me again before you turn in?"</p><p>He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'll look in on you." He walked to the door, then turned around to look at her. In the middle of the vast bed, in a sea of yellow and white, she appeared so small and vulnerable that it took everything in him to turn the knob, open the door, and leave the room.</p><p>He took the stairs to the fourth floor because he didn't want to deal with his claustrophobia just now. He reached the landing and found a mirror on the wall. He checked his hair and tie one more time before venturing into the enclosed alcove off to the side of the library next to the short hall that led to the entrance of the solarium. </p><p>He found the marquess behind a large oak desk with his feet up. His suit jacket was off, the tie hung around his neck undone, and he was smoking a cigar. The smell reminded Sidney of his childhood in North Yorkshire. Newly-sown fields, rain-soaked earth, and rich, loamy soil. Ravenwood nodded toward a burgundy leather armchair in front of the desk, indicating he should sit. Sidney obliged, stretching his legs and crossing them at the ankles.</p><p>"Took you long enough," the marquess said dryly, tapping his cigar on a crystal ashtray. "Did my sister insist on a bedtime story?"</p><p>"Something like that." Sidney was watching the man pick up another cigar from the wooden box. He peeled the gold foil wrapper at the tip, cut off one end with a device that looked like a guillotine, and handed it to Sidney along with a gold butane lighter. </p><p>"Light the end, puff as you roll the cigar to make sure it's lit on all sides. Once you've got her nice and lit, you'd want to blow on the embers a little to make sure the cigar burns evenly." The marquess gave him the instructions as though he were teaching him how to bake a cake. "Drink?"</p><p>"Please." Sidney settled against his comfortable chair as he set about getting his cigar lit as the marquess directed. He puffed and blew the smoke into the air. He knew that cigar smoke didn't have to be inhaled to get the nicotine fix, unlike cigarettes. </p><p>Ravenwood reached for the decanter behind him and poured generous portions for the both of them into two individual snifters. He pushed the other one toward Sidney. "This one is Laphroaig Islay, eighteen years old. Let me know if you prefer it to the Balvenie. I'll reserve my final judgment about you till then."</p><p>Sidney smiled as he sniffed the scotch first before drinking it. "I'd say... Peat, charcoal, iodine. Campfire, maybe. And a little bit like the disinfectants used in hospitals. I'm a vicar, so I'm quite used to hospitals."</p><p>Ravenwood laughed. "You really do have a good nose. Now taste it."</p><p>Sidney took a careful sip and let the liquid swish around in his mouth before swallowing it. He licked his lower lip, then took another sip. He set down his cigar on the crystal ashtray and focused on the bouquet of tastes on his tongue. He swallowed, then nodded, having made his decision. "Big, smoky. Peaty. Briny, I'd say. But smooth. Like... kippers over campfire. I love it."</p><p>Ravenwood grinned and reached across the massive desk to toast him. "Good man. I love a good Islay, too, and Laphroaig is it. I really believe you can tell what kind of man you're talking to by his taste in scotch."</p><p>Sidney inclined his head to acknowledge this, then picked up his cigar for a couple of puffs. "So, what can I do for you, Ravenwood?"</p><p>In the yellow light from the single lamp on the desk of the marquess, the sharp angles of his face gave him a saturnine appearance. "I know you've been investigating the murders in Cambridgeshire with Geordie Keating. I believe they both concern me personally. The first one involving the girl happened on my property. The second took place on my alma mater and the victim was a good friend of my father. He was also one of my favorite instructors." He puffed on his cigar. "I can't help but think I'm being specifically targeted, but can't imagine what sick bastard would come after me like this. I've seen the crime scene photos, Chambers."</p><p>Sidney didn't know if he should be relieved or worried that the marquess thought the intended target was him and not Shun-Lien. "Are you planning on going down to Cambridgeshire to look into it yourself?" </p><p>Ravenwood took a deep swallow of his drink. "The Chief Constable would have my head. He already hates my guts. He's just looking for an excuse to kick me off the force. He says nobility have no place in it."</p><p>Sidney contemplated the embers at the tip of his cigar before picking it up again to take a puff. He had to admit, it was giving him a pretty good buzz. "Why did you join the police force?"</p><p>Ravenwood swung his legs off the desk and braced his arms on the heavy oak in front of him. "I didn't want to be one of those idle aristocrats. When I joined fifteen years ago, I was an idealist who only wanted to protect and serve, but seeing what I've seen day in and out for as long as I have... it changes a person, Chambers. I'm sure you've seen your share of human ugliness during the war. Where were you based?"</p><p>"My troop was sent to Northern Germany. I was there for a few months, then I was transferred to the second battalion, 201st Guards Brigade in Gaza. They needed an officer who spoke Arabic. After that, I was shifted back to the first battalion, to relieve an officer in Anzio." Sidney closed his eyes briefly as a barrage of memories assailed his mind's eye. He was never going to forget. He drained his glass of scotch in one long pull.</p><p>"Jesus," muttered the marquess, pouring another serving into their empty snifters. "Glad you made it out of Anzio. I know a third of our troops didn't. Bet you got a medal for it."</p><p>Sidney thought of the box that held his medal stashed in the bottom drawer of the left side of his desk. He scoffed. "Yeah."</p><p>"I was in Belgium, then Northern France. My battalion was captured as we were crossing into Germany and we were held in prison for nearly five months. The Allied soldiers sprang our collective arses out of there. I was transferred to a new battalion, since most of my troop were dead or severely injured, and found myself in Tunisia."</p><p>Sidney smiled and raised his glass. "Blew up some German tanks, did you?"</p><p>Ravenwood toasted with him. "Hail Britannia!" The smile slowly faded from his face as he stared at the amber-colored liquid in the snifter he held in his hand. "I need to know that I can trust you with my sister's safety, Chambers. The first victim was her lady's maid and that's a little too close for me. You survived Anzio, so I know you're a fighter. Keating vouches for you and he's a good cop, so I know you're solid."</p><p>Sidney exhaled with impatience. "You've spoken to Geordie?"</p><p>Ravenwood studied him with a narrowed gaze. "Of course I had you investigated, vicar. You're engaged to my sister, who is an heiress. I even called the Home Office to verify your military credentials."</p><p>Sidney frowned. "If you already knew my background, what was with all the questions?"</p><p>"I wanted to see if your story would match up with what I already knew of you." </p><p>Sidney sipped his scotch and nodded. He understood that. If he were in Ravenwood's shoes, he would probably investigate a fiance of Jen, too, if they got engaged within days of knowing each other. "I am who I say I am, Ravenwood, and I care about your sister very much. I would give my life to protect her."</p><p>The marquess raised his eyebrows. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Look here, vicar, Shun-Lien is very stubborn. She won't stay here in London where I can protect her and it's too dangerous for her to go back to the manor." He picked up his snifter and took in a mouthful. "I'm trusting you to protect her, Chambers. I think the safest place for her to be is at your vicarage. You can keep an eye on her for me."</p><p>"I agree with you," Sidney said, knowing he had to choose his next words carefully. "But she is an unmarried woman. The diocese would be sure to object and her reputation would be in tatters."</p><p>The marquess seemed to think about that as he puffed on his cigar. He tilted his head back and blew smoke circles in the air. "So move up the wedding date. Procure a special license and marry her while you're both in London. Aunt Gemma would be thrilled."</p><p>Sidney sat back against his chair and nodded in contemplation. Somehow, he knew Ravenwood would ask him to move up the wedding. How would Shun-Lien react when he told her that they had to marry in truth? "I'll have to talk to your sister and see what she wants to do."</p><p>They both stood up. Ravenwood extended his hand toward him for a shake. "Don't let me down, Chambers."</p><p>Sidney felt one corner of his mouth lift in a half smile. He shook the marquess's hand. "I'll take care of her, Ravenwood." He thanked the man for the drink and cigar, then turned to leave.</p><p>"Oh, and Chambers?"</p><p>Sidney looked warily at his future brother-in-law. "Yes?"</p><p>"You've got a smudge of red on your shirt collar. It's lipstick, I believe." </p>
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